Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (21 page)

“On the count of three,” I say out loud even though I’m alone. “One,” I grip the zipper tight. “Two.” I close my eyes. “Three.” The zee of the zipper makes my heart pound. I open my eyes and widen the bag, the ball staring back at me. I reach in to take it out, but stop myself. No. Not here. I should do this where and how it’s meant to be done. I seal up the carrier and head to the bowling alley.
 

Ned is behind the counter when I arrive, and no one else is there. All twenty-six lanes are clear and glisten against the lights set against them. I don’t recall ever seeing this place so empty, much like my heart.

“Hey, Kate. Here to knock down some pins?”

My grip is tight on the bag and I’m close to losing circulation. “Yeah. Can you open a lane for me?” My voice cracks as I ask the question.

“You bet. Lane twelve.” The scoreboard lights up and the pins set.
Let’s go, Kate
.

The zipper is loud in the quiet alley. I need some music. I lace up my bowling shoes before picking out a playlist from the jukebox. I love these new electronic ones. They are so much easier and faster to use. I toss in some Randy Travis just for Ned. When “Diggin’ Up Bones” comes on he grins at me and gives me a thumbs up.

My breath catches in my chest as I take the ball out of the bag and lift it to my nose. It smells like him, a mix of Old Spice and Pabst Blue Ribbon. The last time we bowled together he told me he wanted me to take this ball and keep it safe. He won so many tournaments with it. Even that last one. When I found him his bag was ripped open, the ball far down the street. I paid a lot of money to have this bag sewed back up good as new. I set the bag on my lap and run my fingers across the new stitches.

My dad’s death was so much more difficult than my mom’s. Mom was sick for a while. We had time to prepare; we couldn’t deny the end was coming. When she died and my dad lost his way, wandering around town and sinking into a deep depression, I stood by him and helped take care of him. We visited mom’s gravesite together and when he became especially lonely, I drove him to the Humane Society and we played with the puppies. Once I convinced him to try bowling, a pastime he loved in his younger years, he hesitated. But then he fell in love with the sport again. He found himself. The night he died he was so elated. He won the tournament and gave me his ball. He said he was done, hanging up the ball and retiring. Then he was stabbed and robbed when I stood a hundred feet away in the bowling alley. I couldn’t save him. I wasn’t given time to prepare or come to terms with the end. Mortality just came, arriving without warning.
 

I suck in air as my nose tickles. Something is shining in the bag. I place the ball on the return and reach in to grab whatever is inside. The gold chain with four hearts is the bracelet he gave me the Valentines’ Day after my mother died. Each heart represents someone in our family — me, Dad, Mom, and my brother, Seth. I thought I lost this. It must have fallen off into the bag sometime before or after I had it fixed. I lay the chain across my wrist and clasp it shut. I should wear this now.

My dad is gone and he’s not coming back. I couldn’t do anything then, and I can’t do anything now. The pain eats me up inside. The last three years of my life I spent most of every day with him and our relationship was as strong as ever. I miss him and I’m afraid of experiencing that kind of pain again. I can’t hold back love, though, strictly to spare my heart. What good is life if I don’t love? It doesn’t have to be Kellan, or any man for that matter. I need to be happy and accept my life as it is. I can do this.
 

I can move on. And I will.

••••••••••

I may be bowling my best game ever in honor of my dad. I don’t even normally use a ball this heavy, but I swear it’s filled with some sort of magic. Or, quite possibly, the spirit of my father. Ned cheers me on from behind the counter and I welcome the encouragement.

I’m on the ninth frame when I nab my sixth strike, but the ball isn’t returning nor are the pins resetting. I press the button on the ball return and nothing. “Ned?” I call back to the counter. “Can you help here? Something is jammed.” I click the button again, and nothing.

“You bet!” He tosses down the magazine he was reading and motions for me to follow him. “I’ll give you a small tour back here. Have you ever been?”

“No, I haven’t, and I’d love to check it out.” I’ve always wondered how things work back there. When I was a little girl, I imagined dozens of cats helping run the process. Their tiny paws kneading the ball, slowly rolling it back to the bowler. Through all my years of bowling, I never thought to even ask to witness what goes on back there. I’m sure there aren’t any cats, and I’ll try not to be disappointed.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you bowl so well before, even in the league.” He leads me down the alley and a wave of guilt washes over me. I expect the buzzer to go off and for me to fall flat on my butt. Beyond the foul line was always forbidden, and here I am waltzing past it like it doesn’t exist.

“Thanks. I’m blowing off a lot of steam this afternoon.” And sexual frustration.

“Sometimes that makes for the best motivation.” I bump into him as he stops. “Wait. You were with
me
last night. Did I piss you off?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. After our uneventful kiss, I went home and slept until eight. “Not at all. The same old stuff — trying to sell the unsellable house and make sure the bills get paid.”

He nods and continues walking. Good. I don’t want to start a whole discussion about all the energy locked up inside me.

I follow him through a door into a tiny space behind all the lanes. Ned maneuvers through a tangled mess of metal. I find my way through and meet him on the other side. “It’s cramped back here.” My claustrophobia is kicking in.

“Yeah, well, it’s pretty tight, but I’m remodeling soon. We can clean this up and make it much easier to maintain and manage.” He ducks down, his hand on a large contraption. All that’s going through my mind is I hope his ponytail doesn’t get caught in anything. “Everything is so slick and modernized these days. It’s time we join them.”

“Do you see the ball?”

“Yeah.” He lifts his head and meets my eyes. “Did you hear that?”

I jerk my head around. “No.” Am I in a horror movie? We’re stuck in the back of the bowling alley. Someone is going to come back here and … dizziness overcomes me as I remember my dad’s last day. My hands clam up but inside I’m heating up. “Ned,” I whisper. “Is everything okay?”

A bell dings and I jump back, clutching my chest. Ned bursts into a laugh, then apologizes. “I’m sorry, Kate. I wasn’t trying to scare you. Someone’s at the counter, that’s all.” He sneaks around me. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.” He’s shaking his head and I can tell he’s smiling when he leaves.

Okay, maybe I overreacted, but if I confided to Ned how my dad died, I’m sure he wouldn’t have laughed. My heart starts to return to normal pace and I release my breath. I replay my reaction and understand why he thought it was funny. I’m even now half-smiling myself.
 

The door opens. “Who was it, Ned?” I turn around and Kellan is standing where Ned should be.

“Hi.” My light-headedness returns, though this time my body warms in excitement rather than fear. His lips are parted, his greeting lingering on his lips, and the simple word repeating in my head. The scruff around his face is gone, buttery smooth skin behind it. The mixed blues tie peeking out from behind his black suit is the perfect choice, his dark hair popping from the contrast and his eyes pulling me in. I can’t. I use all my force to defy the attraction.

“What do you need, Kellan?” How did he find me here? Our conversation said everything. We don’t need to drag this along any further. I can’t move on if he’s constantly in my face, which I suppose means I should also delete all my DVR recordings of his forecasts.

I’m not sure if he’s coming or going to work … it’s not Thursday, so he must be going. His fancy shoes don’t belong in a bowling alley. Neither does his suit. As if reading my mind, he takes off his jacket and swings it over his arm. “It’s hot in here.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I have, actually, and it’s steamier since he waltzed in. I’m ignoring the perspiration growing on my face, pretending the beads of sweat on my forehead don’t exist. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I ran out on you the other day.”

I shrug. “I’m not offended. We both had things to do.” I’m playing this off as best I can. His brooding eyes are locked on mine and we’re in the middle of an uncomfortable stare down. The first person who looks away or blinks wins. I don’t have anything to say to him. “Will Ned be back soon? He still has to fix this so I can keep bowling.”

“What are we doing here, Kate?”

“What do you mean?
I’m
bowling. Or trying to. Once these pins reset and I get my dad’s ball back, I plan to continue bowling.” I don’t want to be back here with him. Him in my presence breaks my heart, suffocates me. “I’ll go see what he’s doing.”

“Wait!” He grabs my arm as I try to walk by. I glance down at his hand and he releases. “Sorry. Obviously there’s something going on between us. I know you feel it, too.”

“I don’t feel anything. You’re with Macy. Even if I
did
feel something, that doesn’t matter as long as you’re with her. You guys needed a fill in, and I served my duty.” Who does he think he is, and what does he think he is doing? How can he even suggest something like a connection between us while he’s with …
her
.

“You’re more than a fill in. I …”

“You what?” I don’t know what I want him to say here. Maybe that he’s hopelessly in love with me and needs to be with me. Or maybe that I’m a great friend or that we were a great team and he misses that. Or perhaps he just needs to shut his mouth and walk away.

He pushes his lips together and his cheeks glisten from the heat. I try to step back as he steps forward into me, but I can’t. My body doesn’t want to move. “I miss you when you’re not around.”

I close my eyes and open them again. He’s tossed his jacket aside and those eyes of his won’t leave mine. They’re soft, pleading, and calling me to him. “I need to get out of here.” I’m choking on my emotions, caught between what’s right and wrong and what I want and what I can’t have. I can’t do this. Not right now.

I wait for him to move out of my way. Now I
am
so hot I’m sweating under my shirt. Ned can fix this without me back here. Kellan won’t budge, though. My feet are glued to the floor as he approaches me. What’s about to happen? My breath is quickening and everything sounds so far away. The only thing I can hear is my heart pounding as he wraps his arm around my waist and leans in, putting his lips on mine. He’s pressing hard and I can’t breathe, but I don’t want to. I don’t care. I’ll die like this. This kiss is all I’ve dreamed about for the past five months. My knees weaken and he catches me before I fall. Then as fast as he grabbed me, he pushes me away.
 

“I’m sorry. I had to do that. I had to. Please, forgive me. It was a mistake.” He runs out the door before I can even process what happened.

And I know I’ve fallen.

When my boss mentioned the library event and handed me the flier, I’ll admit to my skepticism. People really want to view pages colored by adults? The pastime is taking the world by storm, but to devote an entire event to it? The last time I submitted work like this for the public to pass judgement was a high school science fair, which, by the way, I barely made work. Me and Science? We’re not a match. The flier sat on my desk for a week before I finally submitted two of my favorite pages. Now here I am, a month later, and only two days off my stolen kiss with Kellan, awaiting everyone’s cruel comments and reactions to my work.
 

The library typically isn't too busy on Thursday evenings unless a special event for kids is taking place, so I’m little surprised at the amount of cars filling the lot. This many people turned out for this? A sign right outside the entrance advises me the adult coloring event is in the community room.
 

I walk into the room and outlining the perimeter are numerous pages and underneath each is a tag displaying the creator’s name. I spot mine right in the center of all the rest. I submitted a fishing boat picture and the one with the dove and the wheat field.
 

A quick head count shows about twenty people perusing the room, studying and commenting on each creation. In the front of the room sits a display of books from the library discussing the adult coloring book trend and how it can be therapeutic. I am a true testament to this.
 

I take interest in how others have colored their pages. Some used outrageous colors I would never think to use, others added to them to make them their own. My favorite may be a fairy, colored with markers with pink and purple wings and teal hair, sitting atop a mushroom, smiling. So many personalities are found in this room, in these pictures.
 

“I just saw yours. Great job.”

Kellan’s voice startles me. He’s standing behind me with this arms crossed in a stance as though he’s studying the work intensely. “What are you doing here?”

“Gretchen told me I could find you here.”

“And why would she tell you that?” I spoke with her briefly yesterday. I wanted her to come support me, but Mona isn’t feeling well and Clark has to work.
 

“Because I asked.”

Of all the cocky things to say. I want to be upset with him, but what right do I have to be? He can come to the library whenever he pleases; I can’t stop him. That’s twice now, though, he’s ran off on me. Twice! I don’t know what else he wants from me. “Do you always get what you ask for?”

His eyes twinkle, set against his deep gray wool jacket. “Generally.”

I don’t respond right away, instead taking a few steps to my left and studying a page from a garden, the stems shooting around the page. I follow the pattern until the lines meet in one spot. “Well, generally, I don’t know what you’re even doing here.” I cross my arms and continue to the next exhibit.