Cold feet
Cold feet(25)
Author: Brenda Novak
The smell of sausage and pepperoni rose to his nostrils while he waited on the front stoop, but did little to tempt his appetite. Like Madison, he’d eaten earlier. The pizza was only an excuse to get together with her–which, when he thought of it, bothered his conscience, too. He generally didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t.
"Hi," she said when she opened the door. "Smells good."
Caleb’s smile when he saw her was genuine; he didn’t have to pretend he was glad to see her. "I brought some wine. I hope you’ll have a glass with me."
She hesitated. "Maybe…Come in."
He could hear the television as he followed her into the kitchen, where she grabbed napkins, plates and glasses before waving him into the living room. "Are you comfortable over at the carriage house?" she asked.
"Actually I am. It’s going to work out pretty well." He sat down and put a slice of pizza on a plate, which he passed to her, then nodded toward the film that was playing. "Looks like I interrupted you. What have you been watching?"
"Chocolat. Have you seen it?"
"No."
"It’s fabulous."
He could’ve said the same for the way she looked, even though she certainly hadn’t dressed up on his account. With her auburn hair in a short, messy ponytail, she was wearing a white long-john top and plaid pajama bottoms. No shoes. She’d already removed her makeup, which made the few freckles across her nose seem more pronounced.
He appreciated her fresh-scrubbed face. Not many women possessed the inherent beauty to go so natural. But what really caught his attention was that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She wasn’t particularly big-busted, but the sight reminded him of just how long it had been since he’d seen, let alone touched, a woman in any intimate place. He had to drag his gaze away and remind himself that now was not the time. "Do you watch many movies?" he asked.
"Not really." She turned off the television. "I bought a real estate business when I moved here, and it keeps me busy. I don’t go out much, and I only own a few DVDs. Mostly romantic comedies."
He could certainly understand why she might not have any thrillers in her collection. Uncorking the wine, he poured them each a glass. "So how’s Brianna doing with her new pet?"
"She’s crazy about it." Madison raised an eyebrow at him. "But I hope you’re planning on helping her feed it. Looking for bugs isn’t one of my favorite pastimes."
"Sure, I’ll help," he said with a chuckle. "It only needs to be fed twice a day."
"Twice a day?"
"Come on," he teased. "Didn’t those brothers of yours teach you anything?"
She accepted the glass he gave her but set it on the coffee table, next to her plate. "We weren’t very close," she admitted.
He took a slice of pizza and grinned. "Maybe that’s not entirely a bad thing. When I saw Johnny the other night, I got the impression he’s caused some trouble in his lifetime."
She sat on the edge of the overstuffed chair not far from the sofa, and Caleb allowed himself another glance at her chest as she picked up her plate. "He has, but–in his defense–he didn’t have a very good childhood."
"What happened?" he asked, wondering if she’d had a bad childhood, too.
She shrugged and swallowed her first bite. "Nothing too unusual. My father got his girlfriend pregnant in high school. They got married."
"Then the baby came." That statement seemed to stem the sexual awareness humming through him.
"Exactly. And they had Johnny right after Tye. But the marriage was too dysfunctional to survive. My father dropped out of school to become a truck driver, so he was gone a lot, and Peg–his wife–started drinking."
"That’s too bad," he said, concentrating on his own pizza so he’d keep his eyes where they should be. "When did they split up?"
"Only a couple years later, I think. I’m not really sure of the details. My father was never much for conversation, and he probably didn’t want to believe all the stuff he heard about Peg. But Tye and Johnny came to live with us when they were teenagers, and they told some pretty hair-raising stories."
Caleb traded the pizza for his glass of wine. He wasn’t having any luck redirecting his attention, and it was easier to watch her over the rim of his glass. "Like what?"
She waited until she’d swallowed again, but she seemed to be enjoying the chance to talk. He could tell he’d chosen the right approach–targeting peripheral subjects, moving the conversation along, giving her a chance to drink some wine.
She tightened her ponytail, but her hair was pretty much falling out of it, anyway. "They said their mother once had a boyfriend who used to slug them if they made him angry," she said. "There might even have been sexual abuse, although the boys never talked about that."
She picked up her glass, studied it and finally took a sip. "They said there was usually nothing in the refrigerator except vodka and some moldy fast-food leftovers. One time Johnny called Peg to get him after school, and she was so drunk she told him he couldn’t come home. Another time, when they were only ten and eleven, she dropped them off at a mall and never came back. When the place closed, the police finally brought them home."
"There’s no excuse for that." Caleb’s disgust helped check the attraction he was feeling. Unfortunately, the wine did not. "Why didn’t the state take Tye and Johnny away from her?"
Madison finished the last of her pizza and set her plate aside. "Because she always knew how to pull it together when she really needed to, and her mother would occasionally step in and clean her place, make her look better than she really was."
"Did she ever dry out?"
"Not for long." Madison tossed a lap blanket over her legs and leaned back with her wine, folding one arm beneath the perfect br**sts he found so fascinating. "Bottom line, I think she resented Johnny and Tye. I think she blamed them because she never found another man who was willing to take care of her."
"Why didn’t your father step in and take over?"
She raised her glass to her lips again. "This is good," she said.
He smiled, beginning to feel a little warm.
"I don’t think he realized how bad it was at the time, not that that’s any excuse," she continued.
"Did he pay child support?"
"I’m sure he did."
"Maybe he thought that was enough."
"Maybe."
The wine rolled gently down Caleb’s throat, easing the tension he’d felt earlier in the day. "What did your mother have to say about the boys?"