Leaving Normal (13 page)

Valentine's Day was about two weeks away and Natalie had her store ready for the increase in business.

A female clerk greeted him, and asked if he needed help. He recognized her from his last visit. She was young and fresh, and had a friendly smile. She gazed at him with an eagerness he had seen in women's faces many times before. He knew he stood out—was bigger than most men. Most of the time he forgot about being so tall, so filled out. Other times, when women were all smiles and acting as if he were a pair of shoes to try on, he grew more aware.

Suddenly, after reminding myself why he'd come, he felt self-conscious. "Is Natalie working today?"

"Yes, she's outside in the flower shed making arrangements. Is there anything I can help you with?"

He gazed around, but didn't really look at his surroundings. "Do you think she'll be coming back in soon?"

The young woman smiled. "I can get her if you want."

"Yeah," Tony caught himself saying. "That would be good."

"Can I tell her who's here?"

"Tony."

"I'll be right back." The clerk headed out back but not before gazing over her shoulder at him once, giving him another smile.

He smiled automatically; hers broadened with a show of teeth, and then she disappeared.

Tony was left to wander around, to study the rest of the shop. Natalie was original and organized, and pretty clever because of the Idaho cowboy and Western theme she presented for Valentine's Day instead of the standard cupids and arrows.

More than once during the past month, he'd thought about the day she'd come over with a bottle of wine. While he hadn't been in the best frame of mind, he appreciated the fact that she'd stayed and watched television with him. For a short while, he had forgotten to be pissed at the world and he'd actually laughed.

Remembering their discussion, he wouldn't have guessed her age right if she'd asked him to. She looked younger than forty-three. She was uptight about the number, no doubt. Why women got that way he couldn't understand. He could give a damn he was thirty-four. Age was a state of mind. It was all about how he felt, how he thought, how he kept busy.

He'd been spending too much time at the fire station, losing himself in long twenty-four-hour shifts that ran one right into another. He'd finally told the guys on the A and B Shifts that he was getting a divorce.

The news surprised Captain Palladino because Tony hadn't spoken much about his crumbling marriage at work. He kept most of those things to himself. It wasn't as if he didn't want to talk about it with the men he worked with. He respected them and they were like family, but there were just some emotions a man kept to himself—like how he'd felt discovering Kim's infidelity. He hadn't spoken about what had been the actual cause of their breakup, but the implication was pretty much there.

A pink cow-poodle figurine caught Tony's eye. His mom had enough style and an open-minded quirkiness to like this. He picked it up, checked underneath for the price. Just as he was doing so, Natalie came up behind him.

"Hello."

He set the figurine down, turned and was immedi-ately aware of how good she smelled. Her scent caught him off guard; he wasn't prepared to breathe her in, but he recognized a primal need to pull that smell into his lungs and savor it.

She didn't smell like any perfume he'd ever smelled in a department store. It was more pure, more natural. A fragrance of flower petals, a mix of sweetness and muskiness.

At the base of her throat, a pulse beat, and from that warmth came the smell of her skin, all fresh and flowery.

His palms suddenly felt fiery hot, his body overtly warm in the heavy Boise F.D. sweatshirt he wore.

"Hi," he returned, clearing his throat.

Studying her, Natalie seemed a little out of sorts, pressing her hands down the front of her work apron. "Meagan said you were here."

Meagan? Then he recalled the young female clerk. She'd returned to the cash register counter and, hearing her name, she gave him another smile. He shot one back to her, then focused on Natalie.

"I came by for some advice."

Her eyebrows rose. "Advice?"

"On some flowers."

"Oh," she replied in an exhale of breath, as if she were expecting him to ask him something else. "Of course, I can help you with that."

She moved to the cooler, waited for him to follow.

"Who are they for?" she asked, sliding the door open. Cold air spilled out of the refrigerated space.

He thought about who he had in mind—the sole reason for his visit to Hat and Garden. "A woman."

For a second he thought he saw a brief flash of envy flicker into her eyes. "The occasion?"

"There is none. I just think she's a special woman." Tony looked at the different sizes, shapes and colors of flowers. "Why don't you pick out the flowers that you like."

"All right." She slid the cooler door open. "Do you have any color in mind?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Pink."

"Do that."

"We can do lots of things in pink." She began pulling stems and making a collection. "There's roses, tulips, carnations, gerbera daisies, freesia and hues."

"Those work."

"All of them?" she questioned, her hand filled with textures and the smell of flowers.

He nodded.

"Did you want them delivered?"

"No, I'm delivering them myself."

Once more, he recognized a hint of longing in her expression and he tried to make sense about why that pleased him.

"All right…it'll take me a moment to make this bouquet up. Can you wait or do you want to come back?"

"I can wait."

She went out the back door. Out to a shed, he assumed. The flower shop was a converted historic home, so he figured the shed was a garage. While he waited, he went through the rooms, then climbed the stairs to discover other rooms done in hues of purple, sage and white. Music played in the white room, a soft melody that he didn't recognize. He grew increasingly more appreciative of the effort she put into her business.

Most of the things Natalie sold were items he wouldn't normally buy. A lot of collectible knick-knacks. His mom had some dust-collector stuff in her living room, but she was more practical about her decorating and put energy into kitchen gadgets rather than hand-crocheted doilies and teddy bears.

Tony was on his way downstairs as Natalie came through the back door holding on to a big bouquet in a tall vase. He was immediately impressed by how the flowers were put together with greens and other delicate accents.

"Is this all right?" she asked, setting the vase on the counter. Her cheeks were flushed from being outside, or maybe not just from the cold. He could see that she hoped for his approval by the way light played into her green eyes when she looked at him.

"It's great. Thanks. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." She rang up his order.

He put his wallet in his back pocket. "And my mom really liked what you made for her birthday."

"I'm happy to hear that." Her face looked radiant, pleased. "Do your parents live in Boise?"

"My parents are divorced. It's just my mom. She lives in Meridian. My dad's in Portland." Conversely, he asked, "And your parents?"

"My mother passed away. My dad lives in Boise. He's retired."

"My mom still works, but she enjoys it."

"Dad helps me with the flower deliveries, and while he grumbles about the van he has to drive, I think he likes coming in."

He noticed then that they spoke in polite undertones. Gone was the level of comfort and margin of familiarity they'd shared in his living room. He realized they were at her place of work, but he missed hearing the humor in her voice. He couldn't nail down why, exactly.

Only that he'd liked it when she was laughing at
Ferris Bueller
.

He moved to take the flowers and she stopped him.

"Wait—you'll need a box." She went into a closet underneath the stairs and came out with a box which she turned upside down. Using a box cutter she sliced slits in the bottom as if she were cutting up a pie. "Set this on the floor of your truck and stick the vase inside. It'll stay upright and the water won't spill."

"Good idea."

She simply smiled, and the curve to her mouth made her appear more youthful and very pretty. Through soft laughter, she said, "After so many years at this, I do come up with some good ideas every now and then."

He grinned at her frankness and gave her his best smile. The one that made women blush. He wasn't sure if the smile would get to her or not; it seemed she had a lot of reserve when she put her mind to it.

She blushed and turned away.

Inwardly, he was satisfied. Not in a way that was overconfident. He just took pleasure seeing that he could affect her—even in a small way.

Maybe it was a macho thing with him. Maybe he liked knowing that he could make her breathing jagged with little effort.

"You're all set," she said, her voice slightly edgy, as if she were trying to take command of it. "I hope your friend likes the flowers."

"I have no doubt she will."

'"I hope your friend likes the flowers.' That's what I said to him. It just came out and I hated how I felt when he replied he had no doubt she would. I don't want him buying flowers for another woman, not now. Not so soon. I mean, he's still married and going through a divorce. Oh, why do I even care?" Natalie groaned.

"Because you like him," Sarah said, dipping a corn chip into salsa. "And now that he's going to be available you need to act fast, because a man hike him will be taken out of circulation quickly."

"I don't want to take him out of circulation."

"Of course you do. I can see it on your face—he probably did, too."

Natalie raised her hands to her cheeks, feeling the burn of a blush.

Sarah said blandly, "Let's face it, if he's buying an expensive bouquet for a female friend already, he's moving on and you need to move in."

"I can't." Natalie pinched the bridge of her nose, then took a drink of her water and ate a chip.

The Mexican-inspired decor at Cafe Fiesta created a fun ambience. Green-and-white painted walls, red vinyl booths, velvet paintings hung on the walls. And a neon Corona Beer sign hung in the window. When it was a patron's birthday, an oversize gold-and-black sombrero was put on their head and the servers sang "Feliz Cumpleanos" to them. Natalie knew this firsthand, as she'd had it sung to her on her last birthday when Sarah and her dad had taken her here.

She and Sarah had snuck out for a quick lunch at the restaurant, taking a break from Hat and Garden and leaving Meagan and her dad minding the shop.

"Why not?" Sarah brushed salt off the tiled table surface. "You told me you think he's good-looking, intelligent, nice, considerate, and now he's going through a divorce, so he'll be single."

"That's even worse. I refuse to be his rebound woman."

"Maybe you wouldn't be. Maybe you two would be perfect for one another."

"I hardly think that. He's got to deal with being divorced first, then there's the age thing."

Sarah lowered her voice but remained distinctly optimistic. "I know you hyperventilated when you told me before—how old is he again?"

In a smothered groan, Natalie responded, "Thirty-four."

"Nine years isn't so big a gap."

"Maybe not if he was nine years older than me."

Leaning into the booth, Sarah crossed her arms beneath her breasts, her expression sour, as if she'd sucked on a lime before a shot of tequila. "How long are you going to do this?"

"What?"

"How long are you going to resist falling in love again?"

Swallowing the heaviness in her throat, Natalie said, "Every mistake I could have made as a newly dating divorcee, I made with Michael. I lost my identity I forgot what I liked, what I wanted to do because I wanted to be in love so badly." With a shake of her head, she sighed. "Stupid. I was too nice, I was too available. He chased me, he won me over—heart, mind and soul— then he threw me away for someone new. It
hurt
."

"I know. I was there with you every day," Sarah sympathized. "But that's in the past. You're over him— aren't you?"

"Yes…yes." Natalie said it almost in disgust. "I hate the man for what he did to me, to Cassie and to his daughter, Brook. He came across as so wonderful, said all the right things."

"He's a jerk. A serial monogamist. You and I have covered this ground before. He never sleeps with two women at the same time, but he never stays with the same woman for more than a few months. He has classic commitment phobia, and the man couldn't communicate his feelings until you wanted answers from him about why he backed away from you after your trip to Hawaii. You don't need his baggage and lame excuses. He needs a good therapist and a reality check. He's got low self-esteem and moves from pretty woman to pretty woman—all to feed his ego."

Sarah gave a wan smile, one that spoke volumes: compassion, love, empathy, faith and hope. "Natalie, it's understandable why you fell for the guy. You didn't have love in your marriage for a long time. We all want to have those feelings."

"I know." Natalie fought the sting of tears that gathered in her eyes, mad that she even allowed herself to feel such vulnerability. "I want them again. But I am afraid to get hurt. It was horrible with Michael. The worst thing I ever went through." She pulled in a shaky breath.

"Maybe now's not the time to be asking, but what's going on with you and Jonathon Falco?"

"We're on for tonight—no matter what." Natalie gave a half laugh. "He's had to reschedule three times. His two sons are the center of his world, something I find very admirable, but fitting me in between their sporting events at school has been a challenge for him."

"I am so glad I had girls. I was watching BreeAnn dance at halftime during a boys' basketball game, and those boys are sweaty and aggressive. I can't even think about one of them with one of my girls."

"I understand. I don't like the idea of Austin and Cassie together."

"What's new on that front?"

"They had a fight a few days ago. I can only hope they'll break up."