In a Moon Smile (34 page)

“Well, it never occurred to me to ask Dalton to hang around here for dinner,” Chesney said. “After he’s been under foot all day, I’m happy to see him go.”

“Liar,” Becca giggled. Chesney responded with a lewd finger gesture but Becca again ignored her. “Why can't you just admit this is more than just a little school girl crush on the hot handyman? Chez, come on. You think you end an engagement and turn into an old spinster for the rest of your life?”

“I'm not ready for a relationship,” Chesney said.

“Bullshit,’ Becca shot back.

“I’m not interested in dating Dalton or any other man,” Chesney said in a low, serious voice. She swallowed hard, knowing that tears were just on the other side of two or three more words about loneliness or fear or lost love.

“Chez, you don’t need to feel like you should hide from life,” Becca said gently. “Just because you’ve had more than your fair share of dating experiences that turn bad, it doesn’t mean there’s not a man somewhere in the universe who would love and adore you.”

“I certainly didn’t intend to, but I’ve somehow made a habit of choosing bad,” Chesney sighed. “You, of all people should know that, Bec. I told you, I’m an ass magnet. A few years ago, we teased about it. But to tell you the truth, it’s not quite as funny as it was before.”

Feeling like a big hypocrite since she too was afraid of taking emotional chances, Becca sweetly patted Chesney’s shoulder. “I don’t think you should keep your amazing heart locked up forever, Chez. In fact, you…”

Chesney could not stand to hear one more cozy word about the subject. In an irritated tone that she didn’t intend to use, she spluttered, “Becca, just shut up about it. I’m cursed, okay? I know I am and I’m learning to live with it the best I can.”

Remembering the private discussion with Deke about Chesney, Becca wrinkled her nose and stared at her best friend, quickly looking for signs that Chesney was joking. But there were none. “What in the hell are you talking about?” Becca barked more loudly than she intended.

“Cursed,” Chesney said again. “I’m cursed as in two cancelled-at-the-last-minute weddings and a whole string of failures. I’m cursed and I don’t want to try anymore.”

“When did you go crazy?” Becca asked as she sliced a small tomato and stuffed half of it in her mouth. She stood there chewing and thinking. “Honestly Chez, why didn’t you tell me that you lost your damn mind?”

Chesney reached inside the fridge, grabbed the salad fixings from the refrigerator and began to rinse them at the kitchen sink. “I’ve thought about it many times. I’ve even had to ask myself if maybe my career has caused me to bug out about men. Maybe writing about perfect guys has somehow bruised my brain so that I can’t exactly know what’s real and what’s fiction.” Chesney began to tear pieces of lettuce and place them in a large bowl. Purposefully, she did not raise her eyes to look at Becca, who was now standing right beside her. “And anyway, even if I somehow decided that I wasn’t actually cursed, I've only been away from Jack for a few months.”

“So?” Becca snapped.

“So I should spend some time evaluating things,” Chesney said. “Instead of just jumping feet first into another pile of shit, maybe I should think things through.”

“Who makes the rules about that stuff?” Becca asked sweetly.

“What are you talking about?” Chesney sighed, still not looking at Becca.

“Like who tells you or me or anyone else how long they should fly solo before they put their heart out there again?” When Chesney responded only with a shrug, Becca calmed her voice. “Each person is different, Chesney. Just because you’ve had some hurtful moments, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something wonderful, right? Think about all the amazing pieces of wisdom you gain from every bad choice you make. And by the way, you’re not cursed, Chez. Goofy maybe, but definitely not cursed.”

Chesney turned her head so Becca couldn’t see the tears. Then she hacked at a carrot, wishing that Becca would stop moving her lips. There was no possible way she could blurt out how much she feared failing once again. She told Becca just about everything that was ever on her heart, but Chesney could not say it, at least not now.

After all, if Chesney fell once more, Charlotte would have enough material to write an expose about her older sister the novelist and her horribly shitty losses in love. Chesney chose a cucumber, peeled it and started slicing it into slivers. “You knew I wasn't happy with Jack, didn’t you?” she asked.

“Chez, to tell you the truth, I was never sure if you knew whether you were happy,” Becca said. “I saw in your eyes that you weren’t necessarily fulfilled by the relationship. But I can’t say that I actually knew for certain that you were unhappy. You've always been one of those go-with-the-flow kinds of people.”

“Because I'm so blah?” Chesney asked in a soft voice.

“Nope,” Becca said as she jabbed Chesney in the side with her elbow. “Sometimes you're like a timid little lamb, easily led around by your nose. And sometimes, I think you have an incredibly high tolerance for misery. Those are the reasons why I could not be completely certain that you were happy or not. But I believe there were more than a few reasons why you stayed in that ridiculous relationship.” Becca sighed and planted a kiss on Chesney’s cheek. “And Chez, in my opinion, the reasons why you stayed so long with Jack had very little to do with your own feelings.”

Shit. Don’t start in, Bec. I don’t want to talk about my role as the family monster
.
We are busy preparing dinner, remember? If I talk about my perfect mother and my perfect sister, I might just crack up right here in the middle of my newly remodeled kitchen. Then you and Dalton won’t enjoy your dinner since I’ll curl up i
n
the fetal position, engaging in way too much primal scream therapy.

“I also knew you'd leave the relationship when you finally saw what it was doing to your heart,” Becca said as tears filled her eyes. “And Chez, you did leave. You were strong. You did choose to take care of yourself. So don’t forget that.”

“That’s not entirely honest,” Chesney said sadly. “The real story was that I waited until Jack cheated. It was finally a tangible reason to end the charade. But even then, I’m not the one who let go and announced that it was done.”

As she made her way across the kitchen to the spice rack and returned to the counter, Becca pulled playfully on one of Chesney’s stray curls. “Actually, I don’t believe it really matters who said what and when to end the relationship,” she said. “What matters is very simple. It was unhealthy and unhappy and it finally did end.”

Leaning against the counter with a dish cloth in her hands, Chesney studied her friend. “I’ve changed a lot, Bec,” she said. “I’m happy about those changes. No, I’m more than happy, I’m actually very proud of what I’m becoming.”

“You know Chez, it took a while for me to really understand why you made this move,” Becca said. “But now I understand. I see it when I look around your place here. You’ve been working on your heart and your house at the same time. You said that to me months ago. Do you remember that? I guess I didn’t really get it, but I do now.”

“How terribly observant for a dry accountant like yourself,” Chesney beamed.

As she stirred the sauce, Becca said sweetly, “Well, the house is nearly renovated. The heart is beating happy again and now it is time to make a move on the beautiful Dalton Moore.”

“I can't possibly do that,” Chesney gasped. “You know I have the self-esteem of a toaster.”

Becca laughed as she pushed past Chesney to get the garlic. “He’s crazy about you,” she whispered. Then she disappeared with dinner plates and glasses, to set the dining room table. When Chesney tried to yank her back into the kitchen to beg for more information, Becca giggled and loudly announced that dinner was on the table.

Okay, I know for sure that I’m crazy. I feel self-conscious about eating in front of Dalton. I felt this exact same way when I was thirteen years old, sharing pizza with all the kids at day camp. I was mortified when a string of cheese hung on my chin right in front of that big-eared boy I loved. What was his name? Duane something. Yeah,that’s how I feel. I’m sitting here starving to death, but I’m forcing myself to eat like I am anorexic!

While Dalton poured a second round of wine for everyone, Chesney made a conscious and constant effort not to stare across the table at the handsome dinner guest. She loved how easily he laughed. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners. She loved the color of his eyes, such a clear, brilliant blue. She wondered how Dalton's eyes could be so closely identical to the mystery man's eyes in the photo. Then she wondered why Dalton seemed uncomfortable earlier in the day when she and Becca went into the attic. Chesney watched Dalton carefully pluck the cucumber out of the salad mix. Obviously he didn’t care for cucumbers but he was too sweet to say so.

She shivered, recalling Dalton’s calloused hand on her leg the day the porch gave way. It seemed like such a long time ago that her leg was scraped up and her ego was bruised. It happened several weeks ago, yes, but the sensation of Dalton’s touch was an immediate, just-like-it-was-yesterday memory.

“You know that I invited Chesney out for dinner this evening, right?” Dalton directed the question in Becca’s direction.

Aw, damn it.

“Actually Dalton, no, I wasn’t aware of that,” Becca gave Chesney one of her famous evil faces before smiling nicely again at Dalton. “But don’t take it personally. She can be moody and high-strung. And she can, uh, well, she can be a moron, too, on some occasions.”

All three of them laughed good naturedly at Becca’s comment. Then Chesney warned, “You’d better watch yourself. Doing these renovations is a work-out. What will you do one day when I threaten to kick your ass?”

“Sorry Chez, but it will be difficult to take you seriously if that day ever comes,” Becca grinned. “My oldest niece is taller than you.”

“She’s a petite little package,” Dalton smiled.

“She’s a bitchy elf,” Becca laughed.

“Just shut up,” Chesney rolled her eyes. “Both of you are getting on my damned nerves.”

“More wine?” Becca asked. And before Dalton could answer, she filled his glass. “Now,” Becca folded her hands on the table and a devious smile crossed her face. “Dalton, we never finished the conversation we had when you drove me to Nashville for more wine.”

“Now I know why I was suddenly invited to be your dinner guest,” Dalton said with a soft but nervous laugh. He glanced across the table at Chesney then back at Becca. “What conversation would that be, Ms. Bartlett?”

“The one about why you never married,” she said.

Hearing that shocking question caused Chesney to cough and splutter and excuse herself quickly from the table. As soon as she stopped choking, Chesney planned to strangle little miss busy body Bartlett right there in her newly renovated country kitchen.

“Are you okay, Chez?” Becca asked slyly as she appeared behind Chesney in the bathroom mirror.

“Yes,” Chesney said firmly, She cleared her throat and shot daggers at Becca while dabbing at her teary eyes. “I'm just…fine…I just... I choked on a piece of tomato.”

“Hmm,” Becca cocked her head. “I guess I didn’t realize that, Chez. From where I was sitting, it appeared more that you choked on your very deprived sexuality.” With a playful shove, Chesney pushed Becca out of the bathroom. So she returned to the table, armed with an assortment of questions for the handsome handyman.

But the moment Becca returned to her chair, Dalton struck first at the moment of curiosity. “As I recall, you are single also,” he said ever so nicely. “But I don’t recall whether you explained or not. So I will just ask again, why aren’t you married, Becca?”

“Well...” Suddenly thrown off balance, Becca flushed and panicked. She thought she was running the show but Dalton edged in for a secret attack and caught Becca at her own game. It was a thrilling moment for Chesney as she slowly made her way back to the dinner table. She secretly enjoyed the red flash rising from the neck of Becca's cutesy little figure-flattering blouse with a matching bauble in her hair.

“Oh yes, dahling,” Chesney added in her best British accent. “Do tell
,
dahling. We’re waiting, you know.”

Becca’s insides felt shaky. She certainly hadn’t expected to be beat at her own game. And if she was in her usual frame of mind, she would easily laugh off this moment, but she hadn’t been completely protected since that motorcycle ride with Deke. At this moment, she was feeling more vulnerable than she cared to be feeling. “I haven't met Mr. Right,” Becca said finally.

“Obviously, that's my answer, too,” Dalton said as he took another swig of wine. “In a way, I mean, that’s my answer too.”

Chesney sighed with relief. Bec and Dalton were equal now. Both had managed to put the other on the hot spot. Now they could discuss the weather and other boring topics while they finished off the second bottle of wine.

“But earlier today, didn’t you say that you moved back to Bean Blossom for a woman?” Becca reminded.

Here we go again.

Chesney shot a furious 'shut your mouth' look at Becca, but it had absolutely no effect.

“Who is the woman you’re waiting for?” Becca asked. “If you, if you don’t mind saying.”

“Well, actually I do mind saying who it is,” Dalton said. “It's not the right time.”