Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 04 - Saddle Up (5 page)

“It was nice to see you Jordan,” I said, and actually meant it.

“Me, too, Sis.”

I watched her drive away. When I went into the house, Dad sat at the kitchen table playing solitaire. He said, “Want to play Slap?”

“You know that game gives me a heart attack,” I reminded him.

“Come on, Bobby. Give it a try. It’s just me.”

I sighed and sat down while Dad dealt the cards. In Slap you play regular solitaire but share the aces piles. It is always a race to get your card onto the piles first. All that slapping makes me crazy, I usually just sit back and let the other people fight it out.

We played several hands and I even got a few cards into the top piles before Dad. When I reached my limit of slapping cards, Dad fixed us a grilled eggplant sandwich for lunch.

“Let’s have a couch potato afternoon, Liza,” Dad said. “Got any DVDs we can watch?”

“Sure, which one?”

“You still got the dinosaur movies?”

“Of course.”

“Good, I like the way the dinosaurs get revenge on the people.”

“But the dinosaurs always get killed in the movies,” I reminded him.

“Sure, some of them do, but in the end the dinosaurs get the island and the people have to leave.”

I rolled my eyes and inserted the first Jurassic Park movie.

We watched the movie and Dad rooted for the dinosaurs, booed when they got killed, and laughed at the end when the people all ran away. They weren’t my favorite movies, but I enjoyed spending the time with my Dad. When the second movie was finished, Dad made some fresh spaetzle and re-heated the sauce from the night before. It was even better the second time, since the vegetables had time to soak up the garlic, onion, and spices. After dinner, we watched the third movie in the series and then the Godzilla movie, my favorite.

Afterwards, Dad said, “I’m headed to bed. I’ll make waffles in the morning.”

“Yum,” I said.

I turned in myself, tired from sleeping poorly the two nights before.

Shelby jumped up on my bed. I petted her and then buried myself under a mound of covers.

I
fel
l asleep quickly and soundly.

Sometime
later I woke up when Shelby barked and Tom’s loud voice yelled at her to stop.

Oh my God! My dad is still here!

CHAPTER 5

“Shelby, no!” I heard Tom shout, an edge to his voice I’d never heard before.

I jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway.

Tom was dressed in his usual attire, blue jeans and a patriotic shirt – this one sporting an American flag and the words “God bless the USA.” He had his back slammed against the do
or, his eyes wide with surprise
mixed with apprehension and a little fear. Shelby stood in front of him and emitted a low guttural growl that I had never heard before, either. She wouldn’t let him pass.

“What’s the matter with her?” Tom yelled at me.

“Shelby!”

The dog snapped her head toward me.

“Get over here,” I demanded.

She looked back at Tom, took a hesitant step backwards, then slowly turned to trot over and sat down by my feet.

Tom set his duffle bag on the floor and took a cautious step toward me.

Shelby wagged her tail, ran to him, and licked his hand.

“I think your dog has psychological problems.” He frowned, glancing between me and Shelby.

“Maybe you woke her up from a sound sleep and just scared her.”

Tom raised his eyebrows at me. “It was more than that. She knows me but wouldn’t let me past her. I actually thought she’d bite me if I tried to get by her.”

Shelby licked his hand again.

“Well, she’s okay now. What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You invited me, remember?” he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

“Of course I did, but it’s only Monday night. You said you wouldn’t be here until Wednesday.”

“What’s the matter, have you got a guy hidden under your bed?” he joked.

“Oh, please.” I blew out air between my lips.

“I went to court today, sat through a day of testimony and the guy took a plea, so the judge sent us all home. I thought I would come early, but if you want me to go back home and come again on Wednesday, I will.” He turned toward the door.

I grabbed his arm, got up on my tiptoes and kissed him.

He looped his arms around me and brought me close. The kiss was long and luscious. The kind that makes your heart pound, your head dizzy, and your toes curl in delight. In a minute we would end up in the bedroom. Then I remembered that my dad was still here. He would need time to gather his stuff and get out.

I stiffened.

Tom released me and glanced around the room wildly. His typical “cop” reaction. “What’s the matter?”

“Actually, I was on my way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “I just sat in my truck for four hours. They were working on the freeway through Tracy and only had one lane open. What have you got?”

“Coke, root beer, Dr. Pepper, fresh squeezed orange juice, and Diet Coke.”

Tom took a step back. “You’re kidding me?”

“Nope. I went to the store since I knew you were coming.”

“Wow, thanks. You make your tea and I’ll get my soda.”

Tom opened the refrigerator and whistled.

“What?” I said as I put a cup of water into the microwave.

“You’ve got a full refrigerator. I’ve never seen anything but Diet Coke and take-out boxes here before.”

I looked over his shoulder. He was right. It was full of fruits, vegetables, left over spaetzle, sauce, and the makings for waffles for tomorrow.

“I told you I went to the store,” I said.

“You made waffle batter?” he asked in amazement.

“It’s left over. Jordan and I made waffles this morning before she left.” I stopped keeping track of the lies.

“You have a waffle iron?” he asked.

I had no idea, but if Dad was supposed to fix them in the morning, I must.

“Of course.”

“This is a whole new side of you, Liza Wilcox. Your sister is a great influence.”

Had I just been insulted?

Tom put his arms around me, pulled me close and kissed me again. Then he said, “Of course, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the old Liza Wilcox.”

“Nice save,” I told him.

“I saw the look in your eye.”

Tom pulled a Coke from the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table. I put a tea bag into my hot water, dunked it a few times and took it out. I normally like my tea very weak, but at close to midnight, I
really
didn’t need the caffeine.

Tom glanced toward the cards on the table. “You and your sister played cards?”

I nodded.

“I didn’t know you liked to play cards,” he said.

“We’ve only known each other for eight months. There are bound to be things about me you don’t know. I just learned on the cruise that you are obsessed with Karaoke, have a wonderful voice, and play golf.

Tom smiled and said, “I can’t wait to learn all your little secrets.”

I coughed, spitting tea on his shirt.

He wiped the tea with his hand.

“Sorry.” I jumped up, got a napkin, and handed it to him.

“This has been some greeting. Your dog about took my head off and you’re spitting tea at me.”

I leaned down, kissed him gently on the neck and said, “Come to bed and I’ll give you a proper welcome.”

“Best idea you’ve had since I got here.”

Tom picked up his duffle bag and we walked down the hall together. When we were passing Dad’s door, I said, “Let’s shut the door to keep Shelby out. I’m trying to train her to sleep on the living room couch and not on my bed.”

“Why?” he asked.

“She’s a bed hog,” I told him. It was the truth. Shelby tended to spread her entire body out when she slept. And training her to sleep on the living room couch, once in a while, was a good idea, even if I did just think of it. Dad would understand my intention and get out.

I got in bed. Tom put his bag next to my dresser, removed his gun and went to set it on the dresser.

“The lockbox is still under my bed.” I wanted his gun out of reach if he happened to hear Dad leave the house.

He took out the box and put in both his guns.
How did the daughter of an eco-terrorist end up being the fiancée of a cop?
I wondered.

Tom took off his shirt, exposing his firm muscles, rich lather of chest hair and several scars which I had never asked about. I preferred to speculate. The four inch abrasion on his shoulder – a shootout with a bank robber? The pockmark on his lower back – saving a child from a burning car? He folded the shirt and laid it on top of the dresser. I glanced over at the chair where I had thrown my clothes. Nobody said we were alike. Then he slid off his pants. I closed my eyes and sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Tom looked around for some possible threat.

“Nothing,” I laughed. “I just like to look at your naked body.”

He rolled his eyes, but I saw his cheeks blush. He slid into bed and in one motion pulled off my nightgown. “I like looking too, but prefer touching yours.”

He stroked his fingertips up my arm and worked his way to other parts of my body. We took it slow and easy, enjoying each other to show how much we missed being together. Tom was never in a hurry, he would rather play for hours. When I heard the front door creak and Tom’s chest tighten, I crawled on top of him to distract him. It wasn’t hard.

Afterwards, I lay tucked into his arms and Tom whispered, “I love you, Liza.”

“I love you, too,” I told him and meant it with my entire heart and soul, but there was a little twinge in my mind that wondered if it was enough.

“I can’t wait to have you cook me waffles in the morning,” he said as he slipped off to sleep.

Thank goodness he couldn’t see my eyes pop open wide. Oh no! I had no idea how to make waffles. But how hard could it be? It took forever to go into a deep sleep. I dreamt about waffle batter taking over the entire kitchen, like a scene from a bad horror movie or
Strega Nona’s
magic pot.

In the morning, I sent Tom off to shower and went into the kitchen. Now what? I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the bowl filled with waffle batter. Under the bowl was a note:

“The waffle iron is in the bottom cabinet next to the dishwasher. Turn it on and let it heat up (ten minutes). Stir the batter but don’t overdo it. Put a ladle full into the center of the waffle iron and close the lid. You will see steam coming from the sides. When the steam stops, open the iron. The waffle should be nice and brown. If he wants the recipe, it’s on your computer in a file I started on the desktop.

Enjoy!  I love you, Dad.

God bless my dad! I found the waffle iron easily, plugged it in and while I waited for it to heat up, I slowly stirred the batter. I followed Dad’s directions exactly and produced a beautiful golden brown waffle.

Tom came into the kitchen, “Wow that smells wonderful, Liza.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You want jelly or syrup?”

“I’ll take both. These smell so good, I might have two.”

They were the best waffles I ever made in my life. Okay, they were the only waffles I ever made, but I was really proud of myself. Sure, my dad had made the batter and left specific instructions, but I cooked them myself.

“Where did you get the recipe for the batter?” Tom asked as he took his third waffle.

“From a cooking site on the Internet. I put the recipe in a file on my desktop if you want it.”

“Great. Michael is a big waffle eater.”

“How is your son?” I asked, taking a second waffle for myself, smothering it with real butter and hot maple syrup.

“He’s doing great. I talked to him Saturday. It was his birthday.”

“Oh, Tom, you missed going to his birthday party.”

“His mom took him to Cancun for his birthday.”

“What does an eight-year-old child do in Cancun?” I asked.

“Let’s see,” Tom held up his hand, using his fingers to tick off the activities. “So far he’s been mountain biking, driven through the jungle in an open top Jeep, and swam with whale sharks and dolphins. Today they’re horseback riding to visit the Mayan pyramids and then the aquarium.”

“Wow, I want to have my birthday there, too,” I said.

“His mother and her new husband spoil the boy rotten.”

“You think they’d adopt me?” I teased.

Tom laughed. “I’m in line first.”

The next several days flew by; Tom cooked an entire traditional turkey dinner for us on Thanksgiving, fixed the leak in my bathroom faucet, and mowed my front and back lawns. And it was very nice to go to sleep and wake up every day in his arms.

Saturday afternoon I went out to the back porch and made the call again. Nothing new.

Tom came out as I hung up the phone.

“Who were you calling?” He sat down in the other Adirondack chair.

I had a decision to make and I needed to make it quickly. I had shared the phone call with my sister and dad. Was I going to keep it a secret from Tom? I couldn’t stand another damn secret.

I dialed the phone, set it on speaker phone and let him hear it.

“Play it again,” he said when it finished, sitting forward in the chair and closer to the phone.

After it played through the second time, Tom said, “Have you had Justin check out this library research division and the phone number associated with the place?”

“No.”

“I’d start with that,” he said and sat back to recline in the chair.

“Wait a minute,” I put my hand up. “You’re not going to tell me to forget it, not to investigate, that I might get hurt or worse?”

He turned his body and used his index finger to bring my chin up so our eyes met. “If I told you that, would you not investigate it?”

I glared at him. Of course I would.

“I rest my case.” He nodded his head decisively and sat back in his chair. “After three of these, I’ve learned it’s better to help and be included than to be excluded and get a phone call that you’ve been hurt, arrested, or fallen into a
n
abandoned mine.”

I felt my temper flare, but then tapped it down. He was right after all. It was time to change the subject. “Well, my dad thinks …,” I started, then realized what I said and gasped.

“I already know he was here, Liza.”

“How?”

“First off, the toilet seat in the spare bathroom was up and unless you’ve had other men guests that I don’t know about, I figured it was your dad. And Shelby’s welcome was more than a bit out of the ordinary. And as much as I enjoyed the waffles, when I looked at the recipe, I knew that you hadn’t made the batter.”

“I could have made it.”

He leaned over and kissed me on the nose. “I love you, dear, but you don’t know how to sift ingredients.”

“What is sift?”

“I rest my case, again.”