Frisky Business (28 page)

“About trusting people. Maybe it’s best not to trust anyone at all, not even the people closest to you. Don’t trust anyone
ever
—isn’t that your motto?”

“Wait a minute—”

“No, Will. I’m done with this conversation. And I’m done with you, too. You can show yourself out. Congratulations on being right.”

She turned away and walked slowly, deliberately down the hall, hoping like hell he couldn’t see her shoulders shaking.

***

“If I’m right, why do I feel like such a dickhead?” Will asked.

Polly barked once, and Rosco followed suit. Will felt comforted by the reply, even though he knew it was merely because he gripped their tennis ball in one hand. He chucked it down the hall and watched the dogs scramble after it.

He looked down at Omar, who was rolled on his back with all four paws flailed in the air. Will rubbed the dog’s belly and sighed.

“You notice she still never addressed what happened to Aunt Nancy’s donation,” Will said. “She may have explained the finances and the fraud, but she clearly avoided the subject of the missing rock dicks.”

Omar looked at Will, then licked his own nose and closed his eyes. Will rubbed his belly some more. “I know you’re deaf, but sometimes I swear you’re the best listener I know.”

How had the confrontation with Marley gone so completely wrong? He’d gone in feeling self-righteous, determined to prove—

To
prove
what?

“To prove you can’t trust her,” he said aloud, feeling vindicated and stupid all at once.

Just hours ago he’d held her in his arms, certain they had a future together, certain he’d found someone who could make him laugh and smile and feel good all over. And when he’d discovered she might not be that at all—

“I was right,” he said to Omar, moving up to scratch the dog’s thick chest. “About not trusting her in the first place.”

Omar opened his eyes and blinked.

That’ll keep you warm at night.

“Are you communicating with me through telepathy?” Will asked the dog.

Omar was spared from having to answer when the doorbell rang. Polly and Rosco ran barking into the foyer, and Will stood up, feeling a flare of hope it might be Marley.

Stupid
, he thought, but walked quickly anyway.

He opened the door and blinked against the glare of the porch light. She took a step forward, her hair blowing across her face and a miserable look on her face.

“Will, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Will stared at April for a few moments, her words ringing oddly in his ears.

“I have something to tell you,” she repeated, perhaps assuming he’d gone deaf. “May I come in?”

Will stood still, not sure he wanted to step aside and let her in. Hearing his ex-wife’s problems was the last thing he needed right now. “You know, last time you started a conversation with
I
have
something
to
tell
you,
you informed me you’d been walking-the-unicorn with my sister.”

April sighed. “Please let’s not start things off on that note. There’s something very important I need to share.”

“By all means,” Will said, waving her in. The dogs leapt and bounded and pounced all over her with joy. April scratched their ears two at a time, stooping to kiss Polly on the snout.

“Such a lovely little doggie,” she said as Rosco dropped his ball on April’s foot.

Will stood watching her, ready to scream with frustration he knew had very little to do with his ex-wife. At last, she straightened up and looked around the living room. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a cup of tea? It turned chilly out there this evening.”

“April, why are you here?”

She shook her head. “You know, you used to be much better with foreplay.”

Will blinked, taken aback by her words. He couldn’t recall ever hearing his sweet, kind ex-wife ever making a dirty joke in her life.

“I see Bethany has been rubbing off on you.” He closed his eyes, wincing at his own innuendo. “That wasn’t a sex joke, I swear.”

“People change, Will,” she said, brushing past him. He opened his eyes again and watched her walk toward the kitchen.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he moved toward the kitchen and pulled the teakettle off the back burner. He filled it with water, then reached into the cupboard for tea bags.

“Is that Marley’s blueberry tea?” she asked.

The sound of her name made Will’s gut clench, but he focused on preparing the tea, on not reacting to her name. “I ordered some online after I saw who makes it,” he said. “Bought a whole case.”

“Do you love her?”

Will dropped the mug on the counter, and it clattered noisily but didn’t break. Rosco barked and clicked into the kitchen to sniff the dropped tea bag on the floor. April stepped around Will and stooped to pick it up, tossing it in the trash before turning back to face him.

“I was going to use that,” Will said. “Five-second rule.”

“Answer the question, Will. Do you love Marley?”

“Didn’t you just show up on my porch saying you had an announcement? How’d we get from there to me serving you tea and answering questions about my love life?”

April sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Marley just called Aunt Nancy to say she’d lost the family figurines. Said she felt horrible about it, but that she wanted the family to know, and she’s handing in her resignation at the Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary. Effective immediately.”

There was a faint buzzing in Will’s head. He leaned against the counter, feeling dizzy. “She what?”

“You heard me, Will,” April said, folding her arms over her chest in a way that was reminiscent of every fight they’d ever had. “And you probably already knew most of that. In fact, I’m guessing the reason Marley called is that you accused her of losing the figurines. And I’m guessing you accused her because you love her, and if you love someone, you’re on the lookout for how they might fail you or betray your trust or—”

“Cut to the chase, April,” he snapped, feeling each of her words like a punch to the gut. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“I think you do, Will.”

He sighed. “How did I become the bad guy here? Marley’s the one who lost the figurines.”

“Marley didn’t lose the figurines. They were stolen.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because I stole them.”

Will blinked. “Come again?”

“This is where I refrain from making the filthy joke you and Bethany would make about
coming
,” she said. “I stole the figurines.”

The teakettle began to scream and Will jumped. He pushed it off the burner, but didn’t pick it up. Somehow, making tea didn’t seem right in the moment. “You have a knack for shock value, April.”

“I’m not trying to shock you. I’m trying to explain why I did it.”

“I’m waiting.”

She sighed. “I know those figurines have been Aunt Nancy’s pride and joy for years, and that she assumed they were worth a lot of money. Remember when she asked me to help get her will in order a few years ago?”

“No.”

“Well, she did. So I had a number of her valuables appraised.”

“Including the figurines.”

“Of course.” She hesitated, choosing her words with caution. “The pieces aren’t real Native American artifacts, Will. They’re just contemporary art made to look rustic. At most, they’re about fifty years old and not worth very much at all.”

“I’m still not seeing what this has to do with your sudden urge to become a thief.”

April shook her head, looking at him as though he was a very dense child. “I wanted to protect Nancy. I was as surprised as you were when Nancy suddenly decided to donate them. I knew she’d find out they weren’t real, and it would just break her heart. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“And you didn’t think having them
stolen
would break her heart?”

“Not as much as learning something she loved, something she treasured, something she held dear and believed in with all her heart wasn’t what she thought it was.” April’s voice had risen to a soft shout, and she fell silent now, waiting for the words to sink in. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

There was a faint buzzing in Will’s ears. It was the sound of his brain trying to wrap itself around what his ex-wife was saying. “How—”

“I figured out where the spare key is kept in the administration office,” she said. “When I was catering that event last week, I snuck in and grabbed the key and carried the figurines out in my empty catering carts.”

Will said nothing. He wasn’t sure what to say. April watched him for a moment, then stepped over to the stove and grabbed the teakettle. She turned and filled both their mugs, then dropped a blueberry tea bag into each. She rummaged in the cupboard and found a jar of honey, stirring some into her tea before setting it to steep.

Will stayed silent the whole time, still too stunned to move.

“Say something, Will.”

“I don’t like honey in my tea.”

April smiled, but pushed the mug toward him anyway. “Try it and see. Sometimes tastes change.”

“Is that another lesson I’m supposed to follow?”

April sighed. “Will, when you and I got married, I really didn’t know I preferred—”

“Sipping-the-mango-nectar?” Will grimaced. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“I didn’t know I was a lesbian. Not for certain. And you didn’t know that about me either.”

“Obviously.”

“So stop beating yourself up.”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Stop feeling guilty for holding me prisoner. For making me be someone I wasn’t. You didn’t do that to me. People are complicated. They have different sides, different things they like or don’t like. Preferences change, or maybe they were always there but they reveal themselves at inconvenient times.”

Will blinked down at his mug, wondering if he’d been too hard on Marley, too hard on April, too hard on himself. He picked up his mug, blowing into the steam and breathing in the scent of blueberries and home and Marley.

“Say something, Will,” April said, her voice pleading.

Will took a sip of tea and set the mug down. “I like the honey after all,” he said. “And that wasn’t a euphemism.”

April smiled and blew on her tea before taking a sip. “It’s very good.”

Will waited for her to call it
lovely,
to offer him the sweet, reassuring smile that told him everything would be okay even when they both knew it wouldn’t.

Instead, April gave him a wicked grin. “It’s fucking great tea.”

Will laughed and took a sip of his own. “So what happens now with the figurines? Is Aunt Nancy having a conniption?”

April shook her head. “You know what’s funny? I don’t think she was that surprised.”

“Really?”

“Deep down, I think she already knew.”

Will nodded. “Me too.”

He waited for her to ask whether he was talking about the figurines or their marriage. It was the same answer either way.

Instead, April smiled and touched his arm. “You know the number one lesson I’ve learned from watching you with Bethany?”

“How to make crude jokes to diffuse awkward situations?”

“That’s number two.”

“Poop jokes are low-class.”

“Shut up, Will.” She shook her head. “The number one thing you’ve taught me is the value of forgiveness and unconditional love.”

“Hmph,” Will said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Aunt Nancy will forgive me eventually,” she said. “Just like you and Marley will forgive each other.”

She reached out and took the tea mug out of his hand, then gave him a gentle shove on the back. “Now get to it.”

Marley stood in the dim light of the otter display at Cheez Whiz and stared into the blue-green water of the tank. It was ten p.m., but Bridget the otter was hard at work making laps in the tank.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind, Marley?” Susan asked, turning away from the display and stepping close enough to touch Marley’s arm.

Marley nodded and looked at her boss. “Those figurines went missing on my watch. It’s only a matter of time until that becomes public knowledge. In light of what I just told you about my last job, I think it’s in everyone’s best interest if I just go quietly.”

“But the private detective might find—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Marley swallowed hard and looked back at the tank. “I’ll know that valuable artifacts went missing while I was in charge of them, and that’s not okay.”

Susan nodded and looked back at the water. “I appreciate you letting me know right away.”

Marley shrugged. “I’m glad you were still here at work. I wanted to let you know in person. This seemed like the right place.”

They both watched Bridget some more. Had it been just two weeks ago when they’d stood here preparing for the first board meeting? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

The door opened behind them, and Bed walked in. She wore a deep frown and a diamond-studded rabbit pin on the lapel of her jacket.

“This better be good, young lady,” Bed snapped, striding over to Marley. “You know how far it is for me to drive into town, and at this hour—”

“I’m resigning,” Marley interrupted, drawing herself up straight.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m resigning from my position. Effective immediately.”

The silence hung there for a moment, and Marley let it. No more jumping in to fill it for the sake of making someone more comfortable. No more stupid chatter about mauve rabbits and feigned interest in golf.

“And another thing,” Marley said, folding her arms over her chest. “Your ironclad rules about dress codes and dating between board members and employees? They’re stupid.”

Bed drew herself up in a huff. “Young lady—”

“Don’t
young
lady
me. The way you treat people is disrespectful and patronizing. No one’s had the balls to say it to you before because you’re richer than God, but I’m through kissing ass. And I’m done here too.”

Bed’s mouth hung open, and Marley had a serious urge to toss in one of the dead fish Susan brought for Bridget the otter. Susan touched Marley’s arm. Marley wasn’t sure if it was a silent show of support or a move to escort a disgraced employee to the door.

She never found out. The door burst open again, and all three women turned to stare.

“Stop!”

Will marched through the doorway, a crazed look in his mismatched eyes and his jacket buttoned crooked. His gaze landed on Marley, and his expression softened. He stood there for a moment just looking at her. Then he strode forward, grabbing her by the hand.

“I don’t accept,” Will said.

Marley blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t accept your resignation.” He looked at Susan, nodding. “As chairman of the board of directors, it’s my job to oversee the director of development, correct?”

Susan took a step back. “Well, technically, yes. But—”

“Then I don’t accept Marley’s resignation.”

“Will,” Susan began. “I’m not sure you understand everything going on here. There are a lot of factors at play, and Ms. Cartman is capable of making her own decisions.”

“She’s done here,” Bed snapped. “Good riddance, I say.”

“She’s not quitting,” Will said. “Not without all the information, she’s not. Marley didn’t lose those figurines. I know where they are, and I know Marley had nothing to do with their disappearance. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that Marley knows she’s wanted and needed and we desperately, urgently don’t want her to go.”

Marley stared at him, too stunned to form any coherent thoughts. When she opened her mouth, she had no idea what might come out. “Are you speaking on behalf of the board of directors or yourself?”

“He’s not speaking for me,” Bed snapped.

“Shut up, Bed,” he said. “With all due respect. Until I either resign my position on the board, or grow a pair and fight you on all your stupid rules, I’m speaking as both a board chairman and a man who is wildly, madly, completely in love with you.”

Bed frowned. “But we have nothing in common.”

Will sighed. “Not you.
Ms. Cartman
. With Marley, dammit.” He turned to Marley and took a careful step toward her. “Marley, I love you
. I love you
.”

Susan blinked, then put her hand on Bed’s shoulder. “Maybe we should wait outside.”

“Absolutely not!” Bed barked.

Susan fixed her eyes on Bed with a glare so intense, even Marley shuddered.

“Right now,” Susan said, her voice terrifyingly chilly.

Bed’s eyes widened, but she gave a nod of assent. The two of them marched away, and Marley watched their backs retreating. When they were out of earshot, Marley turned back to Will.

“What the hell?” Marley asked, too stunned to come up with anything more coherent.

He grabbed both her hands. “Marley, you were right. I do have trust issues. I can’t promise they’ll go away, but I can promise I’ll do my damndest to believe in you. To believe in
us
. Please say you’ll stay.”

Marley looked down at their intertwined fingers. She stared at them for seconds—maybe minutes—thinking about Will and laughter and love and everything else they’d shared. She looked back up into his mismatched eyes.

“Did you know that otters hold hands?” she asked.

“What?”

She squeezed his hands hard and blinked in the dim light. “To keep from drifting apart. They do it when they sleep, so they’ll stay together even if the water gets rough.”

Will nodded and squeezed her hands in return. “After four years of my sister’s wordplay, I have to say that’s the best metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m learning to stand up for myself,” she said. “To not base my decisions on what I think other people want from me.”

“And I’m learning to trust,” Will said. Marley raised an eyebrow, and Will shrugged. “I’m a slow learner.”

Marley laughed, and Will squeezed her hand. “Seriously, I need to be better about giving you the benefit of the doubt. About realizing part of what makes you good at your job is your ability to read people and figure out what they need to hear. That isn’t such a bad thing.”

Marley smiled and looked back in the otter enclosure. “I can’t claim I’ll always know exactly who I am and that I won’t shift my interests from time to time. I can’t promise I won’t sometimes be a flake, even if I try hard to make choices for myself instead of based on what I think other people want. But I can promise you’ll always recognize me, one way or another.”

“You’re hard to miss.”

Marley grinned wider, looking into his eyes. “Scientists did a study on sheep where they showed them pictures of other sheep and gave them a reward if they moved toward a certain picture. After a while, the sheep learned to pick the same sheep’s face eighty percent of the time and could remember an image for up to two years.”

Will grinned and pulled her close. “I’m planning for longer than two years.”

Marley angled her head up to kiss him. “Me too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Baaah.”

“Baaah,” she said, and kissed him.