Mr. Right Goes Wrong Page 10

  Of course, she didn’t really have his number. The ancient phone directory in Beth Ann’s kitchen listed only his parents’ phone. Mazy really couldn’t call there and disturb Ida and poor old Mr. Latham.

  The internet search for Eli’s business brought up a pretty fancy webpage with lots of photographs of beautiful furniture. There was no name under the contacts, just an email address and a telephone for the shop. Since it was the only number she had, she called it. No answer. Maybe she’d misdialed. She called again. Perhaps he was in the shower. She waited fifteen minutes and called again.

  Obviously it was the business phone and the business was closed.

  When both her mother and son were in bed and she was sampling the offerings of the late-night networks, she gave up the expectation that he was going to call. As she dressed down to her pajamas and stretched out on the lumpy couch, she began to postulate the reasons why he hadn’t.

  Had he said anything about going out of town? Mazy didn’t remember him mentioning that. Maybe he had had a dinner with a client. Small-business people did that often, she imagined. Or it might be that his dad was having a bad night and he needed to stay at the bedside.

  Eli could be sick himself. He sure seemed healthy enough the night before. Maybe that was it. Maybe he’d overdone it and sacked out early. She shook her head at that. No, even the nicest guys didn’t get incapacitated from too much sex.

  She fell asleep counting excuses instead of sheep.

  14

  Eli had thought about her all day. Her smile, her laugh. The taste of her lips filled the back of his thoughts with the same frequency that oxygen filled his lungs. In daydreamy moments, the scent of her seemed to surround him with well-being and contentment. In flashes of lust he’d recall her body clenching greedily as she made that sound at the back of her throat.

  Discussion of her as the bank’s new “enforcer” was on everyone’s lips. And that widespread anger and suspicion made him want to enfold her in his arms and tell her that he was on her side, reassure her that everything would be all right.

  He was convinced, however, that that was exactly the wrong thing to do. That’s the kind of thing he would have done in the past. It’s the kind of thing she’d expect from her sweet friend Termy. Eli was determined not to let her see him that way again.

  So he resisted the impulse to call her. He dismissed the idea of taking her out to lunch. He tamped down all thoughts of a heartfelt gift as a remembrance of their night together. He was pretty sure that Lesson One in the Basics of Being a Jerk was that you have sex and you don’t call. Eli figured if he couldn’t manage that, his whole plan was doomed to failure.

  He spent much of the afternoon concentrating on the pieces of poplar that he was going to use for the music cabinet and reminding himself that their long-term happiness together was seriously worth the sacrifice of no sex tonight. He would not call her. And, eventually, she would call him. It might take a week. It might take ten days. He tried to hold on to the certainty that she would. Because the minute that she did, their relationship would be forever changed. She would be the pursuer. He would be the pursued. She was going to chase after him until he caught her.

  At least that was how he explained it to his father.

  He’d gone over for his usual after-work visit, but had stayed to help get his dad through supper. He knew Ida welcomed the break and he needed someone to talk to. It was a bonus that the someone he chose was in no position to try to talk him out of it.

  “You know I’m no misogynist. I’ve never wanted to be the big-man-of-the-house type,” he said as he spooned finely diced-up bits of beef roast into his dad’s mouth. “I don’t like giving orders at work, and I sure don’t want a life of giving them at home. I need a woman to love, not a doormat to walk on. I want the kind of relationship you and Mom had or like the one with you and Ida. A marriage of equals.”

  Eli scraped the last bit of mash potatoes from the side of the bowl and fed it to his dad.

  “Somehow she and I got off on the wrong foot,” he said. “Maybe it was just because I was younger. Or because she was used to Tad and his type. But, whatever it was, she’s never really respected me. If she doesn’t respect me, she can’t love me. That’s all there is to it.”

  He set the empty bowl on the tray and used the napkin to wipe his father’s mouth.

  “I really love her. You probably already know that. Maybe you knew it before I did.” Eli sighed. “It might not work,” he continued. “I’m going into it understanding that. It may be that Mazy is incapable of returning my feelings. That wouldn’t be her fault. It would just be...what it is. If that’s how it turns out, then at least I’ll know I gave it my best shot. Every weapon in my arsenal. And then...then I’ll move on. I promise us both that, Dad. I know Clark and Sheila are sick of me mooning after her. I’ll bet you and Ida are, too. You two just aren’t busybody enough to say so. If I get burned this time, I’m done. I’ll give her a nice kiss on the cheek and send her off into the horizon with whoever it is she really wants to be with.” He raised his hand as if giving the Boy Scout pledge.

  His father’s eyes were bright as he looked at his son with concern.

  “I’m pretty hopeful, really,” Eli reassured him. “Third time’s a charm and all that. And you’re going to love having her as a daughter-in-law. She’s always been sweeter to you than Sheila has.”

  Later, after his dad was in bed, he paced the basement floor. This morning it had all seemed easy enough. Even after talking to his father, the plan seemed doable. But now, being alone and knowing that, after all these years, Mazy was only a phone call away... That didn’t make it easy. He also knew about all the outcry her letters to the bank’s debtors had caused, and that she could probably use a friendly face right about now. And arms to hold her and lips to whisper that it would be okay—those things would be useful, too.

  He tried to stay strong. If he couldn’t manage not to call her, he would never be able to follow through on anything worse. And he had to do some jerking around. He had to appeal to the side of her that wanted to fall for the bad boy. It would be difficult but, after the lying was over and they were happy together, everything would be worth it.

  When the phone rang, he almost picked it up before catching sight of the caller ID.

  She’d called him! He glanced at his watch―8:20 p.m. and she’d already called him. But he couldn’t answer it. Too soon. Too fast. Wasn’t the whole purpose of not calling being hard to get? If he simply picked up the phone, that made him too easy.

  He continued to let it ring, and when it stopped he let out a long breath that he hadn’t realized he’d be holding.

  Almost immediately it started ringing again. This time he had enough strength to walk away. If she kept this up, it was not going to be easy to stay disciplined. And he was going to need some advice.

  He sat down at the kitchen counter and opened his laptop. He typed the term bad boyfriend into the search engine and a plethora of blogs and articles popped up. They had titles like 7 Signs Your Boyfriend Is Bad News or No, It’s Not You, It’s Him and Lose That Loser You Think You Love.

  Eli pulled out the little notebook he kept in his shirt pocket to jot down measurements and began writing notes. Some of the bad-boyfriend revelations were completely out of the question. Under no circumstances would he make a secret sex tape of them and post it on the internet. He would not be stealing money from her purse or running up charges on her credit card. He would never make a public scene so that everyone would know who was the boss. And even if Mazy had a sister, Eli would not sleep with her.

  However, there were some less monumental but easily irritating complaints that he thought he’d be able to pull off. The next time the phone rang, he was able to give it a slant-eyed glare. He wasn’t going to be had with a phone call.

  15

 
; Mazy decided the next night that she would simply wander over to his place after dinner, like she had before. It could be very casual. She might have given the impression that she wasn’t interested on that awkward morning after. In truth, that was exactly what she’d done. She distinctly remembered calling it a mistake and expressing regret. So Eli was undoubtedly holed up nursing some hurt feelings.

  She would have to learn to be gentle with him. She joked to herself that she’d messed up because she hadn’t been with many gentlemen.

  She’d left the dinner dishes for Tru and freshened her makeup. She had just made it to the back door when she saw his truck pull out into the street. He turned right and headed up Sawmill Road. Disappointed, she had fallen asleep that night still dressed as she watched TV in the living room waiting for him to come home.

  The next day, with a crick in her neck, she decided to take more decisive action. She called from work.

  It rang three times before a voice answered.

  “Latham Furniture.”

  “Eli?”

  “No, this is Clark.”

  “Oh, hi, Clark. This is Mazy Gulliver. Do you remember me?”

  “Of course. The pesky brat next door who always dragged my brother into trouble.”

  She laughed. “Is Eli around?”

  “Well, uh, Mazy, you...you just missed him.”

  “Oh.”

  “He...he had to go see about...something.”

  “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “Not sure. Later, maybe.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, if you could tell him I called.”

  “That I will do,” Clark assured her.

  “Let me give you my cell phone number. I’m not sure he has it.”

  “Sure.”

  Mazy recited it and Clark read it back to her.

  “I’ll give it to him the minute I see him,” he assured her.

  “Thanks.”

  The interaction was singularly unsatisfying. But she assured herself that now he could call her directly and not have to call her mother or the bank, that it would be exactly what he would do.

  When she still hadn’t heard from him by late afternoon, she decided that Clark was unreliable and had forgotten to give him the number.

  She called the shop again.

  This time the voice on the end of the line was more familiar, too familiar.

  “Tru? Hi.”

  “Mom? Is something wrong?”

  “No, no.”

  “Are you checking up on me?”

  “No, not at all. I was actually calling to talk to Eli.”

  “Eli? Oh, okay. Hang on.”

  Tru laid the receiver down, but Mazy heard her son’s voice clearly. “It’s my mom. She wants to talk to you.”

  The reply from across the room was less clear. Then Tru picked up the phone again.

  “Mom, he’s right in the middle of cutting a dado. He says he’ll talk to you later.”

  “Oh, sure. That’s fine. I, uh, I’ll see you at home.”

  “Okay.”

  Mazy didn’t know what a dado was, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t brain surgery. He could have taken the call. But maybe he didn’t want to talk to her in front of Tru. He said he would talk to her later. That obviously meant that he expected to see her tonight. She would go to his place as soon as she got home. If he was still in the shop or upstairs with his parents, she’d wait on him.

  That was her plan as she stepped out of the bank at four o’clock. What she had not planned was for Karly to be waiting for her.

  “Hi, hi, hi. I’m sorry I didn’t make it up here for coffee the past couple of days.”

  “Oh? I didn’t think we had a regular meet-up planned,” Mazy told her.

  “No, we don’t. But as soon as I heard all the stew being stirred up in town, I knew that you’d need somebody to cheer you up. I’m your friend, remember? I’m supposed to be around when you need to talk. And I’m pretty sure you need to talk.”

  Mazy was not so sure that she needed to talk. And if she did, she wasn’t sure that Karly was the person she’d choose. Then she reminded herself that she was not a particularly good judge of character. If Karly wanted to be her friend, with no apparent motive other than friendship, it would be silly to turn down the opportunity.

  “Let’s go get a coffee,” Karly insisted.

  “I’m not sure if I should,” Mazy answered. “Some of the banks clients are—”

  “Oh, I know. Charlie McDee’s coffee shop has an overdue loan,” Karly said. “He already told me. He feels bad about it. But he doesn’t blame you. It’s not like you held a gun to his head and said, ‘Take the money.’”

  “Still, I was going to go home and—”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Karly interrupted. “If you seem to hide out, it makes all their distrust of you seem reasonable. Sit with me and we’ll show them that you are not wounded and dangerous and back in town to make people pay.”

  “What? That’s crazy. Make people pay for what?”

  “I told you. A lot of us know that you got a raw deal in this town. He was a basketball hero and you were a nobody. There should have been somebody—his parents, his coach, the townsfolk—to make him do right by you and his child.”

  “That is so yesterday’s news,” Mazy said.

  “But it’s back on the front page again,” Karly replied. “Come on. Coffee.”

  Mazy followed her as they crossed the street and entered Local Grind. They sat in the same seat in the window where they could be seen by the entire world. Charlie McDee took their order without making eye contact with her.

  Karly settled in with her macchiato and Mazy was expecting an adult version of Twenty Questions. But Karly was more conversational. She talked about Che and their kids. The crazy everyday life of the working mom. The goings-on at school. Upcoming first game of the season. And the current spat between the social studies teacher and the janitor that had spiraled to a point where the teacher was having to stash her trash next door in the chemistry lab.

  Mazy found herself laughing, relaxing, even. Maybe having a friend should be a first order of business for her.

  “I think Tru is settling into school very nicely,” she told Mazy.

  She was pleased to hear it. “He’s had a lot of experience at being the new kid. I’ve dragged him around too much. This is his fifth new school.”

  Karly waved away her concern. “I’ve seen kids that have been in twice that many. We had one kid for a few months that had been in three different sixth grades.”

  “And they struggle,” Mazy said.

  “Some do, some don’t. Challenges are not always bad for kids. Look at us and what we had to deal with. We turned out to be better people for it.”

  “You turned out to be a better person. Remember—I’m the bad penny turning up again to collect people’s loans.”

  Karly tutted and shook her head. “Well, Tru doesn’t seem at all the worse for all the places he’s been. He seems to know exactly how to get along with new people. The girls all want to get friendly because he’s so good-looking. He’s nice enough, but never singles anyone out, that keeps the boys from getting their noses out of joint. His decision not to play basketball could go either way. There are some who think we need him competing. And others who worry that he might take their position on the team.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to change his mind about basketball,” Mazy told her. “He’s taken an after-school job that would keep him from practice.”

  “Really? Where’s he working?”

  “Latham Furniture.”

  Karly dropped her jaw dramatically. “Half the men in this town want to get their sons in there as apprentices. But you just walk in there and h
e takes Tru on?”

  “Actually, Tru did it on his own,” Mazy said. “I told him I didn’t want him to work. But my mother told him to ask Eli and he did.”

  “That’s great. I want my kids to go to college, but it would be fabulous if they could learn a trade and have that option, as well.”

  Mazy nodded agreement.

  “Of course, the people who always think the worst of you are going to say something like you slept with Eli to get your son the job.”

  Mazy didn’t reply and stared intently at her coffee mug.

  “Whoa, what was that?”

  “What?”

  “The weird look on your face. And you’re blushing.” Karly leaned forward, her brow furrowed with concern and whispered, “Did you have sex with Eli to get Tru the job?”

  There was more amazement than censure in her question.

  “I did sleep with him,” Mazy admitted, suddenly realizing how much she needed someone to talk to about everything. “But not for that. It...it didn’t have anything to do with that. Eli and I, well, we have a history.”

  “Really?” Karly sounded genuinely surprised.

  “He’s been...well, he’s been my rebound guy a couple of times already. And it felt kind of natural to be back in town and getting it on with him. Do you know what I mean?” She felt her blush deepen, but it had been so long since she’d been able to have another woman to chat with, and it felt so good to finally open up without worrying about judgment.

  Karly nodded. “Sure. Well, actually, I don’t. I’ve never had to rebound. But I can tell you that if I had been wanting to set you up with somebody who could be really good for you, Eli Latham would definitely be high on the list.”

  “Yeah, he’s a tremendously nice guy,” Mazy agreed. “That’s the problem.”

  “Being a nice guy is a problem?”

  Mazy nodded. “I...I did some therapy before I left Wilmington. Twelve weeks actually. We talked a lot about why I’m always attracted to the wrong guys.”