Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (14 page)

"Oh?" He seems a little rough around the edges, but I thought it was an act. Beyond the tattoos and long hair, a country singer and guitar player stands, a guy with a simple life, I assumed. Kellan warned me, if I can call it that, but I shook it off, thinking (hoping) his words hung on jealousy. It seems I was wrong.

"He didn't tell you
anything
about his past?" Her mouth drops open slightly and she picks it back up before she sighs.

I stare at her with a blank face. He never really told me too much about himself other than the basics and the things he liked to do. Sure, our discussion deepened for a short time with our views on change, but other than that, we might as well have been filling out questionnaires. Check if married, single, or divorced. Check if you own or rent or live with your parents. Check if you watch movies.
 

"Okay, then you're in for a treat."

I swallow hard, not sure I want to hear this, but anxious at what she’s about to tell me. Does he secretly run with the Mafia? Did he break into a lab to release test animals? Is he part vampire? I brace myself for what follows.
 

Gretchen hands Mona to me. I sit her on my lap, my hands shoved up her armpits, and her body a comfortable difference from mine.

“Don’t be so afraid, Kate. She’s not your grandma’s fine china.”

“I know that. She’s more fragile.” Mona kicks her legs and I wrap my arms around her.

“Wow. You’ve never held a baby, have you? She’s not a newborn. She can support her own head, she’s eighteen pounds, and she won’t slip out of your hands. Loosen up.” Gretchen grins as she pulls her daughter away from me and hands her back. “Let’s attempt this again.”

This time I lower my hands so they are closer to her waist while I try to let go of the tension from my body. Mona squeals in delight, grabs onto my hand, and squeezes. Wow. I think I could get used to this.

“Much better.”

“Okay, now tell me. I’m dying for the details.”

Gretchen paces the room as she unfolds the story. ”Ned's been dealt a pretty shitty hand, though some of it could be considered his fault. I mean, he didn't deny anything."

"What happened?"

"He fell into a bad crowd in his late teens, started doing drugs and stealing cars. He tried to recover early on, spending about six or eight months in rehab.
 
He came out ready to take on the world, until he met up with an old acquaintance. Ran into him at the store and the guy had meth on him. Cops came and he took the fall. Spent a whole year behind bars. He refused to rat on his friend even though he went through some horrible crap in the slammer.”

Jail. Prison.
Locked up
. ”I had no idea." This must be what Kellan meant.
 

"He doesn't like to talk about it."

I can’t imagine being through something so difficult. Not ratting someone out is very honorable, but to be locked up for one? I can’t think of anyone in my life I would do that for, especially if I’m certain of their guilt. That's what I don't understand. If his so-called friend was guilty, why own
his
guilt? Claim your
own
innocence.

“Kellan tried to help Ned when he first got on drugs. Ned even called me up numerous times to come help him.” She leans against my dresser and crosses her arms.

“Help him?”

“Yeah. Ned would call all kinds of messed up and couldn’t drive. I would bring him home sometimes. Other days he called Kellan and by the time he got there, he’d find Ned passed out, either on the sidewalk or in an alley. It broke Kellan’s heart to see him that way. And then Macy.”

“What about Macy?” How does she fit into this equation? Did she and Ned date? Did they have a one-night stand? Were he and Kellan best friends and then a girl split them up?
 

She pushes herself off the dresser as though she’s a feather. Gretchen is one of the tiniest girls I’ve ever met. She moves across the room quietly. “One day right out of college, everyone went to the bowling alley. Macy said her head ached, so Ned offered some aspirin. She took it and a bit later started acting not like herself. Instead of bitchy, better-than-everyone-else Macy, we got happy-go-lucky Macy.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” Call me crazy, but the minuscule amount of time I spent with her, even over a tablet, I think most would prefer the latter Macy.

“Because this wasn’t her at all. Ned accidentally gave her ecstasy. She was higher than a unicorn flying through clouds. She’d never taken a drug her entire life. Never even smoked pot. Little Miss Perfect. Kellan was
pissed
.”

“I can see why. I’d be mad, too.” I’ve never done any drugs, either. Gretchen gives me the impression she isn’t exactly innocent, and if I tell her I don’t have a clue what it’s like to be high, she’ll view me as a prude, too. “So did he and Ned not talk?”

“Not for awhile. Kellan didn’t know how Ned could be so stupid as to mix the two up. Kellan and Macy broke up, too.”

“Is Macy still friends with Ned?”

“The only good thing I can say about her was her forgiveness towards Ned. She visited him in jail a few times and he apologized to her. They were both young and she blamed his addiction. We’ve all been friends since we were kids. Macy refused to give that up.”

Wow. I can’t even imagine having a group of friends so close that nothing comes between us. Not even after what Ned did. “How can any of you trust him?” How can
I
? I went out with him. What if he tried to slip something to me? She said he gave it to her by mistake, but these days a lady can’t be too careful.

“We just can. He’s clean. One hundred percent. Jail changed him. He never wants to go back there, and he’ll do everything in his power to make sure that doesn’t happen. People
can
change, Kate. And Ned’s living proof.”

"How long has he been out?"

"A long time now. Eight or nine years. And Macy and Kellan picked things back up about three years ago.”

“What brought them back together?”

“Familiarity I think. They were high school sweethearts. After they broke things off, they dated other people. Once we formed the league they started hanging out again and before you knew it, Kellan put a ring on it. Much by Macy’s insistence, I’m sure. But they’re not right for each other.”

“No?” I stop bouncing Mona and my voice heightens. I hope Gretchen isn’t able to hear my heart hammering against my chest, though I bet Mona can feel it.

She chuckles. “No. She changed over the years. She’s very materialistic and my brother isn’t into that type. I keep waiting for him to realize that.”

“Hm.” I recall the house showing and Kellan telling me Macy liked the property, but he wanted something tinier. Macy wants the big house with the granite countertops, dual sinks in the bathroom, and a wine cellar. He wants a place to be manageable and cozy. “Back to Ned. He’s a good guy?”

“Totally. After he got out, his brother hired him on at the bowling alley. Ted would do anything for Ned. They're twins, you know."

"They look nothing like."

"Fraternal. Their dad left them the alley and Ted doesn't like the management stuff, so he gave that part to Ned, and he’s great at it."

I hand Mona back to her. "It's still no excuse for how he acted at the palm reader.“

“He doesn't play around. His music and Ted keep him going, and he doesn't mess with things that don't interest him. The fortune teller probably brought back bad memories and that's why he ran out. Nothing personal."

"I'm sure, but I still don't think I want to date him." I toss a pair of socks in my suitcase. “My focus should be on this game and selling Janice's house."

"And my brother." She smirks and offers a wink.

"What?” I zip my luggage and nearly clip my finger. “No. I mean, yes, I do need to focus on him. To find him a house.” I pick up the suitcase. “And Macy. Him and Macy. Yeah.”

"Mm hm." She kisses Mona on the cheek. “Finding them a house.”

Busted.

Kellan picks me up Friday morning at eight. Right on time, though technically late by my standards. I won’t hold it against him. Most people consider an exact time punctual.
 

A mere inch of snow is on the ground, but that’s plenty for me. "Thanks for driving." I toss my suitcase in the trunk of his car. I clap my boots together before getting in the front seat. "I hate driving in snow, too."

"How can you live in Wisconsin and find snow so problematic?” He's still in park and rests his hands on the steering wheel. His leather gloves scrunch as he tightens his grip.

"I just do, okay? Forgive me if I was born and raised here and still don’t like driving in this crap. I wanted to move across country but frankly, I enjoy the other three seasons. I try to avoid going out in this if I can." I gasp for air as I finish my words in one breath.

"Whoa...slow down, Kate. I’m teasing."

He's looking at me with obvious concern. I’m sure I blew it out of proportion like I do most everything else. Cars and snow don’t mix well for me, regardless of who is doing the driving. ”Sorry. You're right. My brother always gives me a hard time about it and I guess I'm used to bitching at him about his commentary.” It’s late November and this is our first snowfall. But the first one is always the worst. No one remembers how to drive and every other car seems to end up in the ditch.
 

Kellan smiles as he clicks his seatbelt into place. "Well, I, for one, am glad I'm not you're brother."

Me too, I'm thinking as he pulls away from the curb and starts making tracks in the fresh snow. The white fluff on the sidewalks and lawn is beautiful, but best observed from my living room. If I had my way, we’d be enjoying a cup of tea, wrapped up in a blanket, cuddling as the snow fell.

“Besides,” he continues, “this is all we’re getting. The snowfall is practically done. Now where we’re going,
they’re
in for a ton of this tonight.”

“Good thing it’s them and not us. You’d probably need to work then, I suppose. Tell me, why does the weather overtake the TV for any amount of snow anyway? Should I turn on the television, even if there’s an inch or two on the ground? Every station has all day coverage. For what? This hardly constitutes a storm.”

“Says the woman who’s holding onto her seat for dear life.”

Am I? I let go and place my hands in my lap. He must think I’m a crazy woman.

“I don’t make the rules, Kate. As you can see, we have an inch and I’m
not
on the air. When we get a few inches, though, we do stay on for quite awhile. People want to be informed, especially on driving conditions. There are a lot of people like you.”

“Like me?”

“Chickens when it comes to driving in the snow.”

I point to the road. “Just drive, Weatherman.”

He laughs as he takes a left toward the expressway. "Tell me about your family.”
 

The comment about my brother served as the perfect lead in for him to ask for information I don’t want to give. I want to have an intimate conversation with him, I do, but I also don’t want to let my guard down and put myself in a vulnerable position. If we were dating, sure, maybe then my mouth would be in overdrive offering the details of my past. Right now, though, I want him to focus on driving and not me.

I stare out the window at the people shoveling and snow plowing their driveways and storefronts. "Not much to tell.” I’m not one to narrate my life story. When people ask how you’re doing or about your life, how much do they truly want to be told? The basics. Keep it simple.
 

“Lost my mom a few years back. My dad passed about a year ago. My brother and his wife run our family's bed and breakfast."

“I’m sorry about your parents. The bed and breakfast — why don’t you work there, too?"

"I did." I didn't leave abruptly. After spending months in therapy, Seth and I discussed my options and agreed moving served as an optimal solution for me. "I don't anymore. I helped my dad out a lot after my mom died. My brother and I purchased the business from him. When he passed away, I sold my portion to Seth. A fresh start can be good.” I think about Kellan, Gretchen, Tiffany, and even my job. “I made the right decision.”

Kellan wants to say something, but keeps closing his mouth before he forms any words. Finally, he moves forward with the conversation because I’ve said all I am going to about my family. ”My parents live about an hour outside of Chicago. Gretchen and I stayed back in town when they decided to move. My dad took a job as the CIO at a big technology company and relocated. My mom’s a librarian.”

"That sounds like an interesting mix of people.” I pause. “What’s a CIO?”

“Sorry. Chief Information Officer. He’s the main man for everything technology.”

“I’m only partially technologically challenged.” I use my smartphone and tablet. I can’t design a website or anything exciting like that. My abilities are limited to email, spreadsheets, and Scrabble.

“Don’t worry. I’m not. Computers are huge in my field. I rely on so many programs and technologies. Even though you think so, predicting the weather isn’t just looking out the window and guessing.”

“I know. It’s science, and that scares me.”

“Why does science frighten you? It’s fascinating.”

“I never said I didn’t find the subject interesting. The concepts are difficult for me to grasp. If anything brought down my GPA in high school, science was the culprit.”

“I bet you freaked out when you received a poor grade.”

“What? Why do you assume that?” He’s dead on, but do I come off as the class nerd?

“No reason.”

Okay, I
was
the studious type. Really, I don’t consider the classification insulting, but, I’m curious what it is about me that makes him think that. I’m not going to pry, though.
 

"Mind if we listen to music?" I flip to a 90s station on his satellite radio.

"I think we already are." He winks at me. "I can take a hint."

"No, no. No hints. I know the snow stopped but the roads are still a little slick. The music will calm me." I don't want him to think I don't want to talk to him. My palms are sweating from the small distance we’ve driven, and I’m counting car lengths to be sure he’s at a safe distance. Yeah, I’m a
little
paranoid.