A Marriage Between Friends (5 page)

Vince understood Jill, all right. Now if he could just make her see things his way….

“E
DDA
M
AE
, what are you doing here?” Jill whispered when she returned to her apartment the next morning. She’d risen at dawn to find the sky clear again and had spray-painted NO CASINO! on all the signs.

“I’m makin’ breakfast.” Edda Mae smiled from Jill’s sunny kitchen as if everything was right with the world, but Jill wasn’t fooled. Edda Mae was here to see if Jill and Vince had slept together.

“He’s still here,” Teddy said in a low voice, pointing at Vince asleep on the couch. “Are you sure we can’t keep him?”

Edda Mae laughed softly while Jill shushed the two of them.

Vince’s long legs spilled over the end of the couch while Moonbeam curled in the crook of his arm. Vince slept as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but Jill had tossed and turned all night wondering why Vince had come to Railroad Stop—it couldn’t have been a coincidence—and wondering what she was going to do to about the casino.

Teddy came to stand beside Jill and they stared at their houseguest. Jill wanted to do damage with her fingers to Vince’s tamed, dark hair. Nobody should look that good in the morning wearing yesterday’s slacks and a baggy, long-sleeved T-shirt, especially a man who was trying to turn her world upside down.

One of Vince’s toes twitched. His feet were big and sturdy, the kind that moved purposefully forward when confrontation loomed. Jill was almost envious. Her feet were small and always seemed to back away.

When Teddy poked Vince’s foot with his finger, Vince jerked awake, black eyes bleary and ringed with dark circles, as if he’d tried more than a polite sip of Edda Mae’s whiskey last night. Moonbeam growled and Vince grimaced.

A smile tugged at Jill’s lips.

“A little help here.” Head straining to one side, Vince pointed to the protesting dog with his free hand.

A boyish giggle filled the air.

Edda Mae poked her head out of the kitchen. “You’ll need more food now that you’ve got an extra mouth to feed.”

“If you’re determined to keep him, take him to your place.” Jill removed Moonbeam from Vince’s chest, depositing the pooch in Teddy’s arms.

“Thanks.” Vince’s intense gaze seemed bent on capturing her own, but Jill wasn’t to be trapped.

She scurried over to the kitchen where bacon sizzled in a pan, pausing to wash her hands at the sink, which gave her a view of the living room.

“I told you she gets up early, boy,” Edda Mae said, snapping a green kitchen towel at Vince’s knee before trundling back to the kitchen without an ounce of remorse in her expression.

Matchmaking. Busybody. Traitor.

Edda Mae met Jill’s narrowed gaze and shrugged.

“I feel like a pretzel,” Vince grumbled as he pushed himself upright in fits and starts.

Teddy grinned from ear to ear as he watched Vince unfold himself from the furniture. Gathering Moonbeam closer with one hand, Teddy pointed to Vince’s chest with the other. “You have dog drool on your shirt.”

Vince spread the white cotton with both hands. “What the…?” He sank back onto the love seat, thumbs rubbing temples.

“You gave him whiskey?” With a huff of disgust, Jill searched her cabinet for some aspirin. Everyone in Railroad Stop knew Edda Mae’s homemade whiskey was more powerful than jet fuel and just as deadly. Vince was clueless. Yet another difference between her fantasy Vince and the real McCoy.

“I did no such thing.” Edda Mae used a fork to turn over the bacon strips.

“I turned her down.” Beyond the occasional shoulder-and-neck roll, Vince wasn’t moving. He barely acknowledged Jill when she offered him a glass of water and two aspirin tablets.

“Teddy, wash up for breakfast.” Jill turned her back on Vince and went to set her small dining table. “Once you’ve fed Vince, Edda Mae, he’ll be on his way.”

“He’s a bit of a pretty boy. Don’t you think he might like to shower and shave before you send him down the hill?” Edda Mae took eggs out of the refrigerator.

“We’re not running a bathhouse,” Jill countered, more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of Vince naked in her shower. “Remember him? He’s the enemy.”

“He’s no such thing,” Edda Mae pooh-poohed her, then frowned and stared at Vince. “He’s so pretty, in fact, he might be one of those men who like men. I could be wrong but—”

“You’re wrong,” Vince growled. “Not that I have anything against men who like men. I’m just not one of them.”

Edda Mae didn’t look convinced.

Jill tried not to smile. “He and Arnie want to build a casino, remember?”

“I want a golf course,” Teddy said, grinning at Vince. “I’d like to play golf if I had someone to teach me.”

“Have you looked at his face?” Edda Mae continued. “That’s a face you can trust.”

Jill rolled her eyes.

“Come on, Mom. You did marry him.” Teddy came into the kitchen and put Moonbeam down so he could wash his hands. “There must be something about him you like.”

Jill didn’t want to remember.

Prancing expectantly around Edda Mae’s ankles, the little dog began to yap.

“Moonbeam’s cranky this morning. She’s out of food,” Edda Mae announced.

Never a patient dog, Moonbeam barked louder while Edda Mae apologized to her for forgetting to buy dog food and Teddy rooted in the pantry for something Moonbeam could eat, all the while claiming Moonbeam should have bacon for breakfast.

“Excuse me.” Scowling, Vince entered the kitchen, which suddenly seemed too crowded to Jill, but Edda Mae, Teddy and Moonbeam didn’t seem to notice how much space a big, angry man could take up.
“Excuse me!”

Everyone fell silent, until Moonbeam realized it was Vince who was shouting and she still hadn’t been fed. She returned to her protest.

“Back off, looney dog,” Vince growled right back at her.

Moonbeam sat down and gazed up at Vince as if he were about to give her a piece of the bacon that crackled in the pan above her. Jill shouldn’t have been surprised. Vince had always been able to get girls to eat out of his hand.

“In the past twenty-four hours I’ve been lost in the woods and kicked out of this place, after which I nearly mowed down an innocent bystander, was threatened by a poofy mouse with fangs and slept on what has got to be the most uncomfortable couch in the state of California.” He glared at each of them in turn.

First at Teddy. “No, the dog is
not
getting bacon for breakfast even if I have to drive into town to buy her kibble.”

Then at Edda Mae. “No, I am
not
a pretty boy. I’ve been in my share of fights and served in the war. I’ve got scars. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have a shower and a shave, but…”

And here he turned to Jill. “No, I will
not
be leaving when I’m done eating bacon and eggs. We have issues that need to be discussed—including, but not limited to, the state of our marriage and your objections to my casino.”

This was it. He was going to end their farcical union right here in front of Edda Mae and Teddy. Jill held her breath.

But Vince didn’t ask for a divorce. He shook his head and turned away.

Filling her lungs with air, Jill slouched against the counter, knowing she shouldn’t be so relieved. She needed to pull on her big-girl panties and tell Vince she wanted a divorce, rather than wait until he brought it up.

Vince spun back around. “And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about me as if I wasn’t here, especially before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.” Chin up, Vince dared any of them to challenge him.

Jill knew she should. At the very least she had to make it clear that he wasn’t spending the night on her couch again. Vince had the power to shred the safety net she’d created. He’d already started. But words eluded her.

“Looney Moony.” Teddy giggled, pleased with his rhyme.

E
DDA
M
AE REMEMBERED
she’d left Moonbeam’s kibble in the Shady Oak kitchen when she was filling the shelves last week. Vince offered to go downstairs and retrieve it—being more curious than he wanted to admit about this luxury retreat of Jill’s—but apparently he needed a key and someone who knew the security code. Since Edda Mae was cooking Jill suggested Teddy take him. She didn’t seem to want to be alone with Vince or divulge the code.

“Why do elephants paint their toenails red?” Teddy asked, skipping down the stairs ahead of Vince.

“I don’t know,” Vince said absently, still trying to figure out Jill’s state of mind.

“So they can hide in a strawberry patch.” Teddy swung around the bottom stair, grinning at Vince. “Get it? Their toenails are big and round and red like strawberries.”

Vince groaned. He’d forgotten how truly bad a young boy’s jokes could be. But he couldn’t resist trying one of his own. After all, telling bad jokes was part of being a kid. “Have you ever seen an elephant’s toenails?”

Teddy shook his head.

“Those would be some mammoth strawberries.”

A small crease appeared between Teddy’s eyebrows.

With a put-upon sigh, Vince rolled his eyes. “Get it? Mammoth? Elephant?”

“Oh.” Teddy giggled. “Why do elephants hide in strawberry patches?”

After considering for a moment, Vince gave up. “I don’t know.”

Teddy’s lower lip thrust out in disappointment. “Take a guess. Mom hardly ever guesses.”

If that wasn’t a challenge, Vince didn’t know what was. “Because they eat straw?”

“No-o. So they can jump out and stomp on people.” Teddy waited for Vince to laugh before he rounded a corner. He stopped in front of an unimposing door, flipped up the lid of a plastic box installed on the wall and keyed in a series of numbers. “Why do elephants stomp on people?”

“To make people whine…wine?” It was a stretch, but Teddy wanted him to guess.

“No! That’s why they play squash.” Teddy plodded around, his right arm curling as if it were an elephant’s trunk while he made
mmfffttt
noises. Then he grinned up at Vince expectantly.

“Ha, ha. Your friends must think you’re a laugh a minute.”

Teddy’s smile crumpled. “My skunk jokes are better.”

“I can’t wait, but—” Vince held up a hand before Teddy could launch into his stinky repertoire “—let’s find the dog food first. I can hear that looney beast complaining from here.”

Tilting his head, Teddy paused and then chuckled as he searched through the set of keys on the ring Jill had given him. “Yep, she’s still complaining.”

Once Teddy found the right key, the door opened on silent hinges into a huge kitchen with a dark hardwood floor. Black marble counters over oak cabinets made a
U
around the room. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling over a large center island. There were two of everything—stoves, refrigerators, microwaves, all shiny new stainless steel which must have set Jill back plenty. There was a Dutch door opposite the entrance they’d come through and a high counter with shutters on top that he guessed served as a pass-through to the dining room.

While Teddy rooted around in the cupboards, Vince pushed open the Dutch door and walked into the dining room. He whistled once in appreciation as he let the door swish closed behind him. Jill had gone all out here. This was no summer camp. The room was way more lavish than the simple apartment above it.

Vince had been to more than his share of luxury hotels. She’d obviously taken inspiration from high-end lodges. The dining room was a showcase of polished floors, upscale wooden tables and saloon chairs and exquisite chandeliers, with the centerpiece a grand stone fireplace next to a bank of windows that looked out over a porch to the gently rolling valley below. The view was breathtaking.

Jill hadn’t exaggerated Shady Oak’s potential. It could be a huge success. If the individual rooms were anything like this, she’d be booked years in advance. Vince’s mind cranked through what else she’d need—advertising, more staff, weekend getaway deals with the local casino.

“Found it.” Teddy flung the door open, bumping Vince with it. “Let’s go.”

Vince followed the boy out, waiting while he locked up and reset the alarm. “Are the cottages like this?”

Teddy shrugged, clearly not interested. “Mom says the cottages turned out way better.”

His curiosity piqued, Vince stared at the cabins closest to the dining hall.

Teddy tugged on Vince’s shirt. “Hey. What do you get when you cross a skunk with a bear?”

“A zebra?” That was a stretch.

“
Winnie the Pew!
Here, carry this.” The Prince of Bad Jokes handed Vince the small bag of dog food, then raced off. “Last one upstairs is a rotten egg.”

“T
ELL ME ABOUT
your family, Vince,” Edda Mae commanded when they’d all sat down to eat breakfast.

“Edda Mae.” Jill cast a nervous glance at Vince. During their short engagement Jill’s few questions about Vince’s mom and dad had been met with silent shrugs. His parents hadn’t attended their private ceremony. She doubted they’d been invited.

Teddy set his milk down. Out of habit, Jill swabbed his milk mustache away while he swatted at her hand.

But Vince answered smoothly, “There’s not much to tell. I’m an only child.”

“Men,” Edda Mae huffed. “I need more than that. I want to know what kind of family you came from, how you were raised…”
What kind of person you are.
Edda Mae didn’t have to elaborate. Jill had firsthand experience with Edda Mae’s conversation-interrogation tactics.

Vince was too well mannered to frown, but he was buttering his toast like he was drawing a line in the sand, a boundary that said Off Limits. As if Teddy sensed the tension among the grown-ups, the only thing moving in his region of the table were his eyes, swiveling from adult to adult in wide-eyed fascination.

“For instance…,” Edda Mae began when it was obvious Vince wasn’t going to be forthcoming with any information.

“Vince lived with his grandparents in Las Vegas when he was younger,” Jill interrupted, nearly spilling her milk in her haste to prevent World War III from breaking out in her dining room. “How are your grandparents?”

With enviable grace, Vince set the knife down silently on the edge of the butter tray. “My grandmother was in a car accident a year and a half ago. She’s been in a coma ever since.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Edda Mae said, her fork clattering to her plate.

Jill laid her hand on Vince’s upper arm. Although he didn’t move, his whole body seemed to tense at her touch. He stared at Jill’s hand so intently she drew it away in confusion and covered her surprise by asking, “How is your grandfather?” The few times she’d met the legendary Aldo Patrizio she’d been both charmed and intimidated.

“My grandfather hasn’t been the same since,” Vince admitted in a husky voice. “He’s…well, he’s finding it difficult.”

“So you’ve been helping him with the business,” Jill said, trying not to frown as she pondered Vince’s reaction to her touch. She must have imagined the desire in his eyes last night, which was all good. Theirs was meant to be a platonic relationship. Jill tapped Teddy’s plate with one finger, reminding him to eat.

“And your parents?” Edda Mae asked. “Are they helping your grandfather while you’re away?”

“No. The only interest they have in the business is what their share will be when my grandfather dies.” Vince examined his toast intently, as if the fate of the world depended on where he took his first bite.

Edda Mae gasped. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. Not everyone is capable of loving someone.” Vince crunched on his toast.

Jill’s heart went out to Vince. She knew how desolate life could be with parents who evaluated rather than loved.

But then she wondered.

Was he talking about her?

“T
EDDY IS LIKE
one of my own grandkids.” Edda Mae chatted pleasantly to Vince as she handed him a dripping plate to dry. Apparently his confession about his parents hadn’t destroyed her opinion of him.

Unlike Jill, who’d treated him coolly ever since she’d placed her hand over the scar on his arm at breakfast. Could she have felt the twisted, hardened skin through the thin cotton of his T-shirt? The few people who’d seen his scar wanted to know how he got it. Vince didn’t satisfy their interest other than to say, “The war.”

“I tell everyone I have three grandchildren,” Edda Mae went on. “My daughter, Francie, and her two girls live near Fresno. It takes nearly four hours to get there from here—unless Jill drives.”

“She’s still heavy on the pedal, huh?” Vince smiled, remembering the one time he’d let Jill take his sports car for a spin before they got married. Jill had a way of accelerating that gave her passengers whiplash. He’d always suspected Jill was as impatient and impetuous as he was. She just hid it better until she got behind the wheel.

Edda Mae chuckled, the rich sound drawing him further into the Norman Rockwell–like moment—no servants walking on silent feet, no assistants slipping notes, no managers reporting problems on the casino floor.

Out of the corner of his eye Vince saw Teddy sprawled on his belly reading a book. Moonbeam was curled next to him, full of kibble. With half an ear Vince listened to Jill book a group for a stay in January, her tone calm and reassuring. Vince knew if he turned around he’d find her worrying the end of a pencil with her teeth, so at odds with the confidence in her voice.

Jill’s household was nothing like the one Vince had grown up in. And yet, it felt like home.

“Too bad your daughter lives so far away,” Vince said to Edda Mae, reaching for a dry dish towel.

“Francie wanted to go to college. Afterward she wasn’t interested in running Shady Oak and there weren’t any other jobs here for someone with a degree in finance. I miss her, but—” with a determined grip, Edda Mae wrestled the heavy frying pan into the sink “—what can I do?”

If he succeeded, if there was a casino in Railroad Stop, maybe Edda Mae’s daughter could move back. A casino needed more financial experts than a golf course did. As soon as Jill was off the phone Vince was going to point that out to her.

“You sold the business to Jill. You’re free to go to Fresno, right?” Vince reached in front of Edda Mae to put the four plates in the cupboard above the sink. “Jill seems to know what she’s doing.”

Just as Jill hung up the phone, Edda Mae’s grip on the frying pan slipped and it bounced against the stainless-steel sink with a bang.

“Gun! Shooter!” Vince was never sure how he got the warning past his parched throat.

Sam lifted his M16 and began firing.

Yap-yap-yap-yap.

Vince frowned. Dogs usually ran for cover at the first sound of gunfire.

He blinked.

Moonbeam was on Teddy’s back, yelping her displeasure at something.

“Hey. Ow.” Teddy squirmed until the little dog leaped off, still barking.

“Darn and double darn,” Edda Mae said, taking in her soaked blouse and jeans and then the water around her feet. “Moonbeam, hush.”

Dogzilla ignored her owner.

Everything was chaotically the same. Vince began breathing. No one had noticed his descent into the past.

And then he saw Jill staring at him.

Unwilling to be her lab specimen, Vince snapped off two paper towels and knelt to attack the puddles. He didn’t want Edda Mae to slip and fall, plus it gave him an excuse to duck out of Jill’s line of sight and examine the pretty blue linoleum. “Don’t move, Edda Mae. I’ve got it.”

Jill scooped up Moonbeam and shushed her, bringing much needed quiet to the room. Then she ruined it by coming to stand in the kitchen entry.

Vince braced himself.

“A man who does dishes
and
floors?” Jill asked in a voice laced with sarcasm. “I thought venture capitalists were clueless about stuff like that.”

“One of my first jobs was washing dishes in the Sicilian’s coffee shop. What was yours? Guard duty at the photocopy machine?” Vince let his tone convey a level of disdain equal to hers. You could say all you wanted about the Patrizios, but they had a strong work ethic.

“Lucky,” Teddy said. “My job’s cleaning toilets.” He took over the computer as soon as Jill vacated the desk chair.

Cradling soggy, dripping paper towels, Vince got to his feet, but he avoided looking Jill in the eye. Maybe she hadn’t noticed he’d transported himself to another time.

But what if she had? She’d think he was crazy, which would present a huge obstacle for Vince to overcome here in Railroad Stop.

“Jill, where is your mop?” Edda Mae glanced around the kitchen.

“Between the refrigerator and the cupboard. The same place you kept it for years.” Jill stared at Edda Mae. “Are you having a senior moment?”

“Oh.” Edda Mae chuckled as she reached for it. “Well, I am a senior, so I guess I’m entitled to one now and then.”

Jill set the dog on the floor. She stepped closer to Vince, concern in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Like he was going to say no? Diversionary tactics were called for.

“I need to ask you something. Alone.” Vince claimed Jill’s arm and steered her toward the door. There was no way he was letting Jill ask him questions, much less ask them in front of Teddy and Edda Mae. Besides, if he proposed a closer business relationship with his casino, Jill might see how advantageous the deal would be to both of them.

Moonbeam skittered out of their way.

Downstairs, Jill stepped out of Vince’s grasp and led him across the gravel parking lot toward the garage, the sky a gemlike blue above the towering pines ahead of her. “I know what you’re going to say, what you’re going to ask me.”

What the—? She was a mind reader now? “Do you?”

“It should be easy,” Jill continued, not looking back, the natural red streaks in her hair glinting in the sun.

“Of course it is. As long as we agree,” Vince said with relief. Jill must have come to the same conclusion he had this morning when he saw Shady Oak’s dining room. They could both benefit if they worked together.