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Authors: Kathryn J. Bain

Breathless (10 page)

BOOK: Breathless
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11

 

“Hello.” Lydia woke from a sound sleep. “Hello,” she spoke into the phone. Again, concern for her parents forced her to pick up the ringing telephone. Maybe she wouldn't worry so much about them if Charlie hadn't died so suddenly.

“Cheating on Justin. Tsk. Tsk.”

Lydia slammed down the telephone. She wasn't cheating. Justin was dead.
God, please help me. Let me know whether it's time to move on
. Was it God's plan to put Matthew in her life? She rolled over and did her best to fall back to sleep.

After tossing and turning for most of the night, Lydia woke and poured herself a cup of coffee. The morning sun lifted over the horizon on that Saturday. It was just after seven when she threw her purse over her shoulder and headed out the door. Cool air cut through her sweater as she marched to the cemetery. She nodded a hello to Mrs. Caldwell and to Mrs. Jordan along the way. There were always others about tending their loved one's graves, so she didn't worry about coming by herself. Once there, she bent in front of Justin's stone.

“My darling, why did you have to die? Things would be so much easier if you hadn't left.” She touched his name. “I've met someone. It's not serious, at least not yet. But it could be, maybe in time.” She brushed at a tear. “I think it's time to move on with my life. Not that I'll forget you, I couldn't. But I feel like I'm choking inside from the guilt. I need to feel it's time to let go.”

Lydia sat on the grass as she recalled her life with Justin. She continued to talk to the stone. She cried about her loss, laughed about the time they spent with each other. The heat from the sun warmed her skin as it rose in the blue sky.

“I miss you, and I always will.” She kissed her hand and again placed her palm against his name. The diamond from her engagement ring glistened from the sun. She kissed the wedding rings then removed them and placed them in her sweater pocket. The binding that choked her heart fell, giving room to move forward with her life. She sucked in a deep breath. The air felt fresh and new.

As she rose to her feet, she realized Jimmy Newman watched from the other side of the street. It gave her an eerie sensation having been unaware of his presence. At once, a thought drifted in. Could Jimmy be the person calling her? Twice now he'd appeared out of nowhere. Even with his drug use, could he be the one terrorizing her? It was doubtful, but caution weighed heavy as she walked in his direction. She studied the surrounding area for anyone else lurking about before she stepped from the curb.

“Jimmy, how are you?”

He reminded her of the old saying “rode hard and put up wet.” The stained jeans he wore were faded and filled with holes. A sour aroma filtered from him, and his unkempt hair appeared in dire need of washing.

“I'm okay.” Jimmy shoved his hands to the bottom of his pockets. “Can I ask you something?” He added, “Personal.”

“I guess.”

“There ain't no way we'll ever get back together, is there?” He stared at the cement sidewalk.

“No, Jimmy. We had our moment,” Lydia responded. “We both moved on. Think about rehab and nothing else right now. After you're through, then you can focus on getting yourself a wife who'll treat you the way you deserve.”

“I always assumed it'd be you.”

“I'm sorry. Who's to say even without the other stuff, we'd have gotten married.” She touched his forearm. “We were kids. People change when they get older.”

He lowered his head. “It's okay. I know I'm a loser.”

She swallowed hard. She hated that he saw himself like this. “Jimmy, that's not what it is.”

“I understand.” He turned to go, but paused. “I hope you have a great life, Lydia. You deserve it.”

She wondered how Jimmy's life would be different if he had abstained from taking his first taste of drugs. Would he have gone on to a football career or become the doctor he'd once dreamed of being? Anger rose toward Charlie for getting Jimmy hooked. Her brother hadn't stopped at ruining his own life; he had to ruin others' lives as well. Hard telling how many more people than Jimmy he got hooked by his destructive behavior.

The rings lining her pocket bounced against her side as she strolled down the sidewalk. She contemplated Jimmy's words, and agreed. She did deserve to have a great life. Instead of turning south on Devonshire to her home, Lydia headed west on Wilson. She bought a bouquet of flowers from a local nursery.

As she approached the corner, the large elegant mansion of Anna's Boarding House blocked the sun. A long porch encircled the magnificent brick house. Six rocking chairs lined the front, and a round wrought iron table stood between each pair.

Lydia had to force her mouth to close when she saw Matthew. He wore a pair of jeans and a sleeveless tank top as he worked on his motorcycle. He made a striking picture.

Anna Richmond, the owner of the building where he lived, stood over him. Her plump frame wiggled as she used her hands to relate some tale. Her orange hair stood upright in a pointed mess as gray snuck through at the roots. Matthew would turn his head every few seconds, giving her attention while he worked on his bike.

As Lydia closed within feet, the full image of the tattoo appeared on Matthew's arm. The snake draped over a cross with vines surrounding both. She wondered how long it took to do such an intricate illustration. A barbed wire tattoo encircled the other bicep. It had been hidden beneath his sleeve until now.

She gawked at the muscles in his upper arms as he bent, using a socket wrench near his rear wheel. His powerfully built arms glistened from perspiration. The white tank top stretched, tightening with each breath of air.

Her stomach did a somersault as those piercing blue eyes caught sight of her. She rearranged her hair, fighting the urge to run into his arms.

 

****

 

Matthew rose as Lydia neared. Everything fit her to a tee, from the dark pair of blue jeans, to the button- down blouse covered with a pink sweater. The whole outfit accentuated her curves. Curves he struggled to ignore whenever he saw her. He wished God had given him a warning of her presence. He tugged the greasy tank top away from his sweaty body.

“Well, I'll be.” Ms. Richmond walked toward Lydia and gave her a peck on the cheek. “If it's not Ms. Lydia Frederickson out and about so early this morning.” Ms. Richmond's accent proved her to be a proper Southern Belle. “I was going to fetch myself a cup of coffee. Would y'all care for some?”

“No thank you. I only stopped by for a moment.” Lydia sniffed the bouquet.

“Well I'd best be leaving. I have a wild idea it's not me you've come to visit.” She smiled and squeezed Lydia's arm. “Y'all enjoy the day now, ya hear.”

“You, too.” Lydia handed Matthew the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”

“For me. Why?” He accepted the flowers, puzzled by her actions. When the scent of gardenia surrounded him, he practically melted into a puddle on the ground. It reminded him of when he first bumped in to her at Fred's Diner. The aroma swept into his dreams at night.

“For helping when my car broke down. I really appreciated it, and they're to say thank you.”

He glimpsed at the arrangement. “I can honestly say I've never received flowers before.” It showed how she differed from other women.

Lydia grinned as she skimmed the leather bike seat with her hand. “I'm glad I'm the first.”

Matthew noticed the wedding ring set had disappeared from her hand. He decided not to bring it up for fear the reason might not be him. “They smell wonderful,” he said.

“It's an excellent day to discover new things and new people.” She cocked her head with a glint in her eye.

His mind spun in a million different directions. He tried to rein in his excitement so as not to appear eager as he tried to contemplate her words. That voice inside his head shouted, “
Tell her about Charlie before it's too late.”
He again chose to ignore it.

“I mulled over what you said the other day by the side of the road, about getting to know each other. I'd like to try it” She hesitated. “As long as it is slow.”

“I'll let you set the pace.” He longed to grab her and plant a kiss on those luscious lips. He resisted, aware
that
wasn't moving slow. “How about we do dinner this evening? An official first date?”

“Okay.”

A shade of pink gathered in her cheeks from the crisp air. Matthew had to remind himself to inhale as he stared.

“How about I pick you up at seven?” He said.

“I'll be ready.” After she had walked a few feet, she stopped and turned. “Where are we going? I want to wear the proper attire.” She gave him a big smile.

“How about we keep it casual? Some place simple, not too formal.” He moved to the other side of the motorcycle and leaned against it. “What you're wearing now will suffice.”

“If you say so.” Her eyes sparkled. “I'll see you at seven.”

His heart hovered behind her as she sauntered away.

Matthew showered after Lydia left. It would have been pointless to go on working when all he wanted to do was follow her like a stray dog. She could scratch him behind the ears any day.

He laughed at the notion as he pulled to the front of her house just past six-forty-five. He hoped he wasn't too early, but he'd been anxious all day to see her again. He had pushed any thought of Charlie Westerman from his mind.

Lydia had changed into a peach-colored turtleneck sweater. Her hair was pulled up with a few strands loose that gave softness to her face. It took every ounce of energy for Matthew's heart to keep from jumping out his throat.

“So where are we going?”

“I thought Fred's Diner would be the perfect place.” Matthew choked out the words.

“Fred's?”

“Well, it really is
our
place, where we first met.” Did he catch a hint of disappointment? “If you'd rather go somewhere else, I'll be happy to oblige.”

“No, Fred's will be fine.” She stopped when she saw the motorcycle. “How about we take my car? I'll even let you drive.” She held up the keys.

“If you insist.” He smiled at her while inwardly upset for suggesting the local diner. He should be taking her someplace nicer. He assumed he'd already blown it, and the evening hadn't even started.

 

****

 

Going to Fred's Diner let off a lot of the pressure. It reeked casual and comfortable. Lydia hoped her inner being stopped jumping up and down. The acrobats had been busy since she arrived home.

She climbed into the passenger side of the Civic as Matthew held the door open. Once in the driver's seat, he barely had room to move.

“There's a knob on the side to move the seat or make it recline a bit.” Lydia leaned over to show him. The spicy core with the leathery background of his cologne inched into her nostrils. When she glimpsed his blue eyes, her heart throbbed. She returned upright and pulled open the vanity mirror and ran her fingers through her hair. She pictured her heart thumping through her sweater.

Matthew winked at her in the mirror as a blush traveled from her forehead to her neck. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. A fiery sensation voyaged through her. His masculine fingers enveloped hers as he drove. The warmth seeped in deep. She couldn't comprehend why her nerves were so jumpy. She hadn't had these feelings since she was a teenager out on a first date. She prayed she didn't do anything to ruin it.

Within five minutes, Matthew pulled the car into a parking space behind the building housing Fred's. As they entered, the smell of burnt grease assaulted them.

“I believe they kept that burger on longer than necessary.” Lydia covered her nose as she marched to a booth farthest from the grill.

“That would be my burger.” Matthew laughed. “What can I say? I take them well done.”

“That's not well done. That's ashen.”

“Hello, Pastor. How are you today?” The waitress brought over two cardboard menus.

“I'm doing fine, Dolly. I'll take a BLT and root beer.” Matthew returned the menu to her.

“And the lady?” Dolly looked down at Lydia with a grin.

“Hello Dolly. How're the kids?” Lydia gave her a smile.

“Growing big and full of trouble.”

“I imagine. I'll have the chef's salad with a glass of water.” Lydia leaned across the table toward Matthew once Dolly retreated. “You can hear the arteries hardening in here, can't you?”

“I'm shocked to catch you here.” Warren surprised Lydia by appearing behind her. “Are you telling me the preacher has dispelled all your healthy eating habits? Matthew, glad to see you again before I leave.”

“You too.” He glanced at Warren then returned his attention to Lydia.

“I'm coming in to catch a quick bite,” Warren said. “I've finished packing and will stop by before I ride off into the sunset tomorrow afternoon. So what brings you to Fred's?”

Lydia looked up with a grin. “Warren, we're on a date.”

“A date. Here?” Warren laughed as he patted Matthew on the shoulder. “I'm not a lady's man by any means, but I've read enough books on the proper places to take one on a date. I don't recall the local greasy spoon being mentioned.”

A smug look seeped across Warren's face. It wasn't like him to be pompous. Lydia hoped it wasn't because of his new job. If getting this position in Seattle meant his ego would inflate, he'd be better off not having it.

“I would appreciate any ideas you can give me for the future.” Matthew winked at Lydia.

As she looked away from the two men, heat rushed into her cheeks.

“I'm surprised Sheryl hasn't called with the news.” Warren then whispered, “She's always up on the gossip.”

BOOK: Breathless
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