Denise was rinsing the silverware before putting it into the dishwasher. From where she was standing she could see the two men outside, and she watched them, her hands unmoving under the water.
"Penny for your thoughts," Melissa said, startling her.
Denise shook her head, returning to the task at hand. "I'm not sure a penny will cover it."
Melissa picked up some empty cups and brought them to the sink. "Listen, I'm sorry if I put you on the spot during dinner."
"No, I'm not mad about that. You were just having fun. We all were."
"But you're worried anyway?"
"I don't know . . . I guess . . ." She glanced at Melissa. "Maybe a little. He's been quiet all night."
"I wouldn't read too much into that. I know he really cares about you. He lights up whenever he looks your way--even after I teased him."
She watched as Taylor pushed in the chairs around the table.
Denise nodded. "I know."
Despite her answer, she couldn't help but wonder why that suddenly didn't seem to be enough. She sealed the Tupperware bowl with a lid.
"Did Mitch say anything to you about anything that happened while they were out front with the kids?"
Melissa looked at her curiously. "No. Why?"
Denise put the salad in the refrigerator. "Just curious."
Daddy.
So are you gonna marry this girl or what?
As he nursed his beer, the words continued to echo through Taylor's mind.
"Hey, why so glum?" Mitch asked, filling a plastic garbage bag with the remains from the table.
Taylor shrugged. "Just preoccupied. That's all."
"About what?"
"Just work stuff. I'm just trying to figure out everything I've got to do tomorrow," Taylor answered, telling only the partial truth. "Since I've been spending so much time with Denise, I've let my business slide a little. I've got to get back into it."
"Haven't you been heading in every day?"
"Yeah, but I don't always stay all day. You know how it is. You do that long enough and little problems start cropping up."
"Anything I can do? Check how your orders are coming, things like that?"
Taylor placed most of his orders through the hardware store.
"No, not really, but I've got to get it squared away. One thing I've learned is that when things go wrong, they go wrong in a hurry."
Mitch hesitated as he put a paper cup in the bag, feeling a strange sense of deja vu.
The last time Taylor had used that expression, he'd been dating Lori.
Thirty minutes later Taylor and Denise were driving home, Kyle between them, a scene that had been repeated dozens of times. Yet now, for the first time, there was an air of tension in the truck without a reason that could be easily explained by either of them. But it was there, and it had kept them quiet enough that Kyle had already fallen asleep, lulled by the silence.
For Denise, the sensation was a strange one. She kept thinking about everything that Melissa had told her, her statements rattling through her brain like senseless, ricocheting pinballs. She didn't feel like talking, but then Taylor didn't, either. He'd been strangely distant, and that only intensified her feelings. What was supposed to have been a casual, friendly night out with friends, Denise knew with certainty had become something far more important than that.
Okay, so Taylor had almost choked when Melissa had asked if marriage was in the plans. That would have surprised anyone, especially the way Melissa had blurted it out, wouldn't it? In the truck she tried to convince herself of that, but the more she thought about it, the more unsure she felt. Three months isn't a long time when a person is young. But they weren't kids. She was pushing thirty, Taylor was six years older than that. They'd already had a chance to grow up, to figure out exactly who they were, to know what they wanted in their lives. If he wasn't as serious about their future together as he seemed to be, then why the full-court press these last couple of months?
All I know is that one day they seemed to be doing fine and the next thing you knew, it was over. I never did understand why.
That was also bothering her, wasn't it? If Melissa didn't understand what had happened with Taylor's other relationships, Mitch probably didn't, either. Did that mean that Taylor didn't understand it?
And if so, was the same thing going to happen to her?
Denise felt a knot form in her stomach, and she glanced at Taylor uncertainly. From the corner of his eye, Taylor caught her glance and turned to face her, seemingly oblivious of her thoughts. Outside the car window, the trees whistling past were black and clumped together, solidified into a single image.
"Did you have a good time tonight?"
"Yeah, I did," Denise answered quietly. "I like your friends."
"So how did you and Melissa get along?"
"We got along fine."
"One thing you've probably already learned is that she'll say the first thing that pops into her head, no matter how ridiculous it is. You just have to ignore her sometimes."
His comment did nothing for her nerves. Kyle mumbled incoherently as he adjusted himself a little lower in the seat. Denise wondered why the things Taylor hadn't said suddenly seemed more important than the things he had.
Who are you, Taylor McAden?
How well do I really know you?
And where, most important, are we going from here?
She knew he would answer none of those things. Instead she drew a deep breath, willing herself to keep her voice steady.
"Taylor . . . why didn't you tell me about your father?" she asked.
Taylor's eyes widened just a little. "My father?"
"Melissa told me that he died in a fire."
She saw his hands tighten on the wheel.
"How did that come up?" he asked, his tone changing slightly.
"I don't know. It just did."
"Was it her idea to bring it up or yours?"
"Why does that matter? I don't remember how it came up."
Taylor didn't respond; his eyes were locked on the road ahead. Denise waited before realizing he wasn't going to answer her original question.
"Did you become a fireman because of your father?"
Shaking his head, Taylor expelled a sharp breath. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"Maybe I can help--"
"You can't," he said, cutting her off, "and besides, it doesn't concern you."
"It doesn't concern me?" she asked in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I care about you, Taylor, and it hurts me to think that you don't trust me enough to tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," he said. "I just don't like to talk about my father."
She could have pressed it further but knew it wouldn't get her anywhere.
Once again silence descended in the truck. This time, however, the silence was tainted with fear. It lasted the rest of the way home.
After Taylor carried Kyle into his bedroom, he waited in the living room until Denise had changed him into his pajamas. When she came back out, she noticed that Taylor hadn't made himself comfortable. Instead he was standing near the door, as if waiting to say good-bye.
"You're not going to stay?" she asked, surprised.
He shook his head. "No, I
really can't. I've got to get to work early tomorrow."
Though he said it without a trace of bitterness or anger, his words didn't dispel her unease. He began to jingle his keys, and Denise walked across the living room to be closer to him.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
She reached for his hand. "Is something bothering you?"
Taylor shook his head. "No, not at all."
She waited to see if he would add anything else, but he didn't go any further.
"All right. See you tomorrow?"
Taylor cleared his throat before answering. "I'll try, but I've got a pretty full schedule tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be able to swing by."
Denise studied him carefully, wondering.
"Even for lunch?"
"I'll do my best," he said, "but I can't make any promises."
Their eyes met only briefly before Taylor glanced away.
"Will you be able to take me into work tomorrow night?"
For a brief, flickering instant, it almost seemed to Denise as if he hadn't wanted her to ask.
Her imagination?
"Yeah, sure," he finally said. "I'll take you in."
He left after kissing her only briefly, then walked to his truck without turning around.
Chapter 22
Early the next morning, while Denise was drinking a cup of coffee, the phone rang. Kyle was sprawled on the living room floor, coloring as best he could but finding it impossible to stay in the lines. When she answered it, she recognized Taylor's voice instantly.
"Oh, hey, I'm glad you're up," he said.
"I'm always up this early," she said, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over her at the sound of his voice. "I missed you last night."
"I missed you, too," Taylor said. "I probably should have stayed. I didn't sleep too well."
"Neither did I," she admitted. "I kept waking up because I had all the covers for once."
"I don't hog the sheets. You must be thinking of someone else."
"Like who?"
"Maybe one of those men at the diner."
"I don't think so." She chuckled. "Hey, are you calling because you've changed your mind about lunch?"
"No, I can't. Not today. I'll be by after I finish up to bring you into work, though."
"How about an early supper?"
"No, I don't think I'll be able to make that, either, but thanks for the offer. I've got a load of drywall coming in late, and I don't think I'd be able to make it over in time."
She turned in place, the phone cord going taut against her.
They make deliveries after five?
She didn't say that, however. Instead she said brightly:
"Oh, all right. I'll see you this evening."