Crazy Little Thing (15 page)

Our game began tamely enough, with Kyle saying, “I’ve never Googled my own name.”

He, Jasper, and Fontaine drank.

“Is there another Fontaine Baker out there?” Beth asked.

“Nope. I’m the one and only,” Fontaine answered smugly.

“Yes, you are,” Kyle added.

“Why would you Google your own name?” She was still perplexed, or maybe the beverages were making her thickheaded.

“For fun,” Kyle said. “I found four other Kyle Tanners just in Michigan.”

“But none like you.” Fontaine patted his leg, and I started to wonder if there was monkey business going on with their design business.

“I’ve never given anyone stitches,” Jasper said.

“That’s not fair,” Des complained, but he took his drink anyway.

Beth was next. “I’ve never stolen anything.”

Everyone but Beth took a drink.

“You’ve never stolen anything? Not even a piece of candy?” Kyle asked.

Beth shook her head. “I don’t think so. The guilt would kill me.”

Jasper leaned over. “Oh, but you’ve stolen my heart.”

Everyone made retching sounds while Beth blushed and kissed Jasper’s cheek.

Then Fontaine said, “I’ve never ridden a unicycle.”

No one had.

We went around the table a few times, saying things such as, “I’ve never painted myself blue...peed in the shower...gone to the movies alone...worn shoes from two different pairs.”

Then it was my turn again. “I’ve never driven on the opposite side of the road.”

Not a great one, but I was distracted by Des’s big knees coming out of his shorts. Even his knees were cute, and nobody had cute knees. How did he manage that?

He went next. “I’ve never...kissed a girl.”

Everyone drank except Fontaine.

“Oh, you have too, you cheater,” I shouted at him. “Remember Delores DeForrest?”

Des laughed the hardest, leaning forward toward Fontaine. “You knew a girl named Delores DeForrest?”

“Yes,” Fontaine giggled. “And she’s a florist. Delores DeForrest the florist. Can you imagine?”

The drinks made us decidedly stupid. With each round our laughter grew louder and more obnoxious.

Fontaine said, “I’ve never been to Scotland.”

Des slapped his own leg. “Damn it, why are you picking on me?”

“Because picking on Sadie is too easy,” Fontaine answered.

“Thanks,” I said. “Just for that, I never manscaped my chest hair.”

“Touché,” Fontaine responded, picking up his drink. Then he added, “I’ve never had sex with a Highland sheep.”

“Hah! Neither have I!” Des exclaimed, but he got confused and took a drink anyway. Then he tripped himself up by saying, “I’ve never lived in another country. Oh, shit. That’s me.”

I would have felt sorry for him except he was such a good sport about everyone making him drink. Plus he was getting completely hammered.

Beth smiled sweetly and said, “I’ve never worn a kilt.”

Des sighed with exaggeration, picking up his glass once more. “What’s this game called again? Get the new guy drunk?”

“Have you worn a kilt?” I asked, not quite able to picture it. Sexy and Scottish as he was, I couldn’t see him pulling off the whole Braveheart look, even with the cute knees.

“Not often. I wore one in my cousin’s wedding. Apparently...” He paused a second, pointing his finger at no one in particular as laughter overtook him. “Apparently you have to be more careful...how you sit...in a kilt.”

“Show off a little Loch Ness monster there, aye, Des?” Jasper asked.

Des nodded fast. “Nearly.”

We howled with laughter.

Then Fontaine, being his diabolically provocative self, said, “I’ve never had a sexual fantasy about anyone on this deck!”

A collective snicker went round the table. Jasper and Beth smiled at each other and toasted, clinking their glasses together.

Then suddenly everyone was looking at me!

What the hell?

Curse you, Fontaine! He knew I had tawdry visions of Des tucked away in my mind, but I wasn’t about to own up to it. If I didn’t drink, would he call me out? Fontaine was a bully that way.

I made a face at him, but he just waggled his eyebrows and nudged the glass closer to my hand. I sat motionless, still as a statue, resisting the urge to cross my arms. I was not confessing to this one.

Then to the left of me, Des let out a little snort. He picked up his glass, drained the whole of it, and thumped it back down on the table with defiance.

The others doubled over with raucous laughter while my mind whirled out of control.

Was he fantasizing about me? He couldn’t be. Oh Lord, this was embarrassing! I bit my lip. Seconds passed, until finally I peeked over at Des. He was grinning at me like a kid holding the last ice-cream cone available to mankind. He was daring me, that arrogant bastard. What were we, twelve?

Oh, what the hell.

With pinky raised, I took a genteel sip from my glass, daintily dabbed at the corners of my mouth, and then threw the glass over my shoulder and right off the deck.

By this time, they could hear us laughing in Wisconsin.

CHAPTER 10

I SPREAD OUT MY BEACH blanket, wishing with all my heart that my sunglasses were bigger and darker. The sun was blazing and not helping my dull hangover. Thankfully Paige and Jordan were watching a movie with Dody up at the cottage so I had a few minutes to myself. I settled in with my new book,
The Moron’s Manual for Starting Your Own Business
. A gift from Fontaine.

The smell of hot sand and cool water was a tonic, lulling me into a lethargic stupor. I closed my eyes and my mind drifted back to last night. The end part was a little fuzzy. The last thing I remembered was watching Des lumber unsteadily down the beach toward the Pullmans’ house.

I opened my eyes sleepily. There he was, lumbering again. I blinked, thinking it might be a mirage. But he was really there, making his way toward me much slower than usual.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked when he finally reached my blanket and sat down with a heavy thud.

“How do you think?” he asked. He took off his sunglasses, making me gasp.

His left eye was swollen and red, with dark bruises all around it. He looked like the final scene from a boxing movie.

“Oh! My! God! What happened to your eye?”

He scowled. “You guys got me drunk last night.”

Uh-oh. I think I might be in trouble. I hesitated to ask, “And?”

“And when I got home it was very late and very dark.”

I bit my lip. “And?”

“And you know that table you moved in my front hallway to make it look more
welcoming
?”

He said
welcoming
the way most people say
horseshit
.

“Well, I walked in the door, tripped over the goddamned cat, and crashed into the table on my way to the floor.”

He was annoyed. And I should feel terrible! This was all my fault, just like Dody tripping over Jordan’s truck had been. But the mental picture of him stumbling and bumbling through a dark house and falling flat on his face was too much to bear.

I tried to fight it. I really did. But then I busted out with a full-volume, head-tipped-back guffaw. I couldn’t help it! I slapped my hand over my big, loud mouth but the laugh was already out there.

“You think this is funny?” he asked.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, but the bubbles of laughter were filling up my throat and going into my nose.

“Sadie,” he huffed again. “It’s not funny!” But one corner of his mouth twitched.

“I know!” I nodded fast then burst out laughing even harder.

He stared at me, until at last, he started laughing too.

“I’m so sorry, Des!” I choked out.

“You don’t seem sorry.”

“Oh, but I am, really.” I tried to appear sincere, attempting to do my Sad Paige impression.

He shook his head slowly.

“Does it hurt?”

“You bet it does. I woke up this morning and thought my head was going to explode. I figured it was just from the drinks, but then I saw myself in the mirror.”

I laughed again, imagining the scene.

“Of course, it hardly hurt at all when I did it! The cat kind of broke my fall. Anyway, I’m willing to let you make it up to me.” His other eye crinkled in amusement.

“And how would I do that?” I asked.

He put his sunglasses back on. “Go out to dinner with me tomorrow.”

All the alcohol still in my system rushed back to my head. I felt dizzy and slightly seasick. He was asking me on a date. I didn’t want him to ask me on a date. I had an allergic reaction to dates. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m only here for the summer, you know.”

Des smiled. “Dinner should only take a couple of hours. We should be back in plenty of time for you to pack up for Glenville.”

The seasickness swelled. I tingled with hope and panic. A date. He was asking me out on a date. A million reasons I should say no pinballed around inside my skull, colliding and ringing warning bells. Loudly.

“So how about it?” he asked.

“Um, sure,” I heard someone answer. Someone who sounded just like me. “That would be nice.”

“Great.” He fell back against the blanket, flung his arm over his eyes, and promptly went to sleep. Wasn’t that just like a man?

Arriving back at the cottage after my afternoon in the sun, I found bags of pretzels, candy wrappers, and soda cans strewn all around as Dody, Fontaine, Jordan, and Paige lounged together on the big brown sofa in the family room. They were watching
Phantom of the Opera
.

“Um, I’m thinking that movie is not so appropriate for my kids, Dody.” I bent over and started picking up wrappers.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a musical. Didn’t your mother ever let you watch musicals when you were little?”

“Yeah, like
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
.”

“See?” She drank from her soda then offered it to Jordan.

“That’s not quite the same thing.”

“Shhhh, shhh!” Fontaine hissed, not taking his eyes off the television. “The Phantom is luring the girl into his dungeon lair.”

“I know! That’s a little dark and twisted for a six- and four-year-old, don’t you think?”

Paige was sitting on Fontaine’s lap, enthralled by the movie. “Why is he wearing a mask?” she whispered.

“Because he’s a mutant musical genius,” Fontaine answered. “Like Lady Gaga.”

I looked around the room, conflicting thoughts swirling in my mind. If I went to dinner with Des, I’d have to ask one of these two to watch my kids. Could I really do that? Jordan’s head rested in Dody’s lap while she petted him like a dog. Richard would have a conniption if he saw this. Where was my parental guidance? Where was the adult supervision? I bit my lip and thought about Des’s hair and the way it was always just a little messy, begging me to run my fingers through it. My hand twitched. I could almost feel his hair against my palm.

Oh, what the hell. My kids would be fine.

I took the plunge. “Dody, can you watch the kids tomorrow night so I can go out?”

Fontaine’s head popped up like a prairie dog’s. He immediately paused the movie while he and Dody looked at me as if I’d just announced my nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize.

“Who are you going out with?”

I crossed my arms. They didn’t need to sound so surprised. “Just dinner with Des.”

My aunt and cousin high-fived each other. Very mature.

“Of course I’ll watch the children,” Dody said.

Fontaine hopped up, oblivious to Paige tumbling onto the floor from his lap. “And I’ll go pick out your outfit.”

“Fine,” I said. “And I will go call Penny.”

Penny didn’t answer her phone, which was an enormous problem for me. I needed her to talk me down from the ledge onto which I had crawled. What the hell was I thinking, telling Des I’d go out to dinner with him? I could have said I had plans. I should have told him I had to sort Dody’s ceramic-unicorn collection or help her tie-dye a tablecloth. Maybe it wasn’t too late to cancel. I could wait until tomorrow and then tell him Jordan had a fever. But Des was a doctor. He’d want to come over and help. Frickin’ Hippocratic oath.

Fontaine walked into my bedroom and started strewing my clothes all over.