Key Lime Pie (3 page)

Pete said nothing, just waited for her to look back at him. “So, no dinner and movie, huh?” he asked, sounding both sympathetic and disappointed.

Sadie opened her mouth to say, no, it wasn’t a good night, and yet right on the heels of that was her own question.
Why not?
How would it help Eric for her to cancel her evening plans?

You are not a part of this,
she told herself, ignoring the stab of disappointment she felt inside. Was she really so arrogant as to feel left out somehow? For being a woman in her mid-fifties, she still had a lot to learn about what made her do and say and think the things she did and said and thought.

“Of course we’ll still go out,” she said. She looked toward the street where Eric had disappeared before smiling up at Pete whose expression was unreadable. “There’s nothing I can do,” she said. “I know that.”

“You’re sure?” Pete asked, but she could hear the relief in his tone. He didn’t seem to want her to choose worrying about Eric over spending a night out with him. Sadie hated that if he knew what had happened on the courthouse lawn a few minutes earlier, he’d be even more insecure. Should she tell him? Had he seen them?

She and Pete weren’t serious—they’d never discussed being exclusive or anything—but neither of them were seeing anyone else either. Why did it have to be so complicated? The almost-kiss played in her mind again and she searched Pete’s face, but couldn’t determine what he might or might not have seen. He guarded his expressions well.

She wished there were a delete key in her brain for things she really didn’t want to ponder on. And yet, even as she thought it, she felt her toes tingle at the memory of Eric’s face so close to her own. Argh! The man had ruined her! “I just need to get those last two flowers in the ground, and then I’ll clean up. I’m sorry.”

“No apology necessary,” Pete said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. His hand was soft and warm against her skin and when he opened his palm, she leaned into it, absorbing the comfort offered by his touch. Wanting his touch, however, made her feel like a hussy—inches away from kissing Eric one minute and pining for Pete’s tenderness another. “And I’ll finish planting the flowers,” Pete added.

She took note of his business attire. “You’ll get dirty,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll do it.”

“I want to,” Pete said, and Sadie wondered if he was feeling competitive with Eric somehow. Just like when Eric offered his help, she chose to take it at face value.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you at your car in a few minutes.”

“Perfect,” Pete said with a nod.

He turned toward the flower beds, and Sadie turned to the back door of the city offices. As she let herself inside and headed down the hall to the bathroom, however, she couldn’t get Eric out of her head. No matter how much she tried to distract herself from his situation, she couldn’t help but picture Eric standing over a fax machine as he sent dental records across the country in order to see if the body the police had found was that of his only child. What was it like to face such a life-altering situation? What was it like to face it alone?

So, what’s with you and Eric?”

Sadie’s head snapped up. Hadn’t Pete been talking about work? “What?”

Pete was watching her closely from across the table at Baxter’s. His plate was clean. Sadie had taken a few bites of her chicken Caesar salad, but mostly pushed the lettuce around the bowl while listening to Pete’s voice and the other sounds of the restaurant. She wasn’t hungry. “I asked about the relationship between you and Eric.”

Sadie searched his tone for some kind of accusation, but it was hard to read. He probably learned that trick at the police academy: Neutral Tone 101. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, hedging.

Pete took a breath and leaned back in his chair. “It’s not a difficult question, Sadie, and I’m not looking for any specific answer. I’d just like to know exactly what Eric means to you.”

“He’s a friend,” Sadie said, the almost-kiss racing to the front of her mind, taunting her once again.
Was
he a friend? Did
friends
try to kiss you, then tell you that you would kiss them first? She took another bite of her salad without looking at Pete but could feel his eyes on her as she did so.

The waitress took Pete’s plate and asked if they were interested in dessert. “None for me,” Pete said. He lifted his eyebrows at Sadie. “You?”

“No, thanks,” Sadie said. She felt guilty enough for not eating the entire meal; too bad salad didn’t keep well as leftovers. She gave up on the meal she didn’t want to eat and pushed the salad away. The waitress took the cue and picked up the bowl before returning to the kitchen.

Once they were alone, Sadie looked up into Pete’s face, realizing that it would do neither of them any favors to avoid this conversation. “How would you define
our
relationship, Pete?”

“I guess I would say we’re dating,” he said. “We see each other a couple times a week and seem to enjoy our time together.”

“But we’ve been doing that for months,” Sadie said. “Do you see this going anywhere?”

“I don’t know,” Pete said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together before resting his hands and forearms on the table. “The answer to that question might be wrapped up in my original one.”

Eric.

Sadie looked down, mostly to avoid his gaze long enough to come up with an appropriate response. She’d dropped a piece of lettuce on her pants and picked it off to reveal a splotchy oil spot on her left thigh. Perfect. She looked up to find Pete just as intent as before. “What about Eric?” Sadie asked, putting her hands on the table in an attempt to stop her fidgeting.

“You light up when he’s around.”

“I do?” Sadie said without thinking. “I mean, um, I don’t think . . .”

Pete surprised her by reaching across the table and taking her hand. He offered her a smile. A serious, slightly sad one, but a smile all the same. “It’s okay,” he said. “Enjoying one another’s company doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”

What on earth was she supposed to say to that?

Luckily, she didn’t have to answer. “Look,” Pete said, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. She felt the tenderness and warmth of his touch all the way to her toes. “I think you’re a remarkable woman, but the last thing I want is for you to be with me when you want to be with somebody else.”

Sadie’s mouth went dry. She shook her head. “It’s not like that,” she said quietly, embarrassed to be having this discussion. Did Pete think she’d been leading him on? Where was a distraction when she needed one? Was it too much to ask for a busboy to drop a tray of dishes or something?

Sadie took a breath. “I really like you, Pete, and I enjoy spending time with you.”

“But?” he said, when she stopped from saying it herself.

“But I don’t know where it’s going with us,” she finally admitted. “Things are the same now as they were six months ago and, quite frankly, at my age waiting doesn’t come easily.”

“I agree,” Pete said, withdrawing his hand from hers and sitting back in his chair. It felt symbolic to her, his pulling away. The restaurant suddenly seemed a little cooler than it had before, a little quieter, too. They both fell silent. Sadie felt horrible. She’d said too much and it didn’t feel right in her stomach. And yet, she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. She’d been widowed at the age of thirty-six, and over the years, when she would allow herself to consider remarrying, she’d imagined that she’d have no doubts and no hesitation when she found the right man—much like she’d felt when she’d first met Neil nearly thirty years ago. Instead she had both doubts
and
hesitation when it came to Pete. Did that mean Pete wasn’t the man she’d wanted him to be? The seconds ticked by and they both sat there, avoiding being the first person to speak.

“I can take care of that when you’re ready,” the waitress said, as she slid the black leather case in front of Pete. He smiled politely and opened it, seeming relieved to have a distraction.

Sadie shifted in her chair. Was it fair to have Pete pay for her meal that ended with a conversation like this?

He slid his debit card into the binder and placed it so it hung over the edge of the table a couple of inches. Then he looked up and met Sadie’s eyes. He didn’t look as tormented as she expected. Did that mean he wasn’t disappointed? Or was he simply doing the same thing with his expression as he’d done with his tone earlier—keeping it neutral? “You and I both know that life is short,” he said. “And we both know what it’s like to be loved and truly comfortable in a relationship. For that reason, neither of us should settle for anything less than that. Don’t you agree?”

Sadie did agree and yet she felt a lump in her throat as she nodded. “I feel like I owe you an apology or something.”

Pete managed a chuckle. “You don’t. I’ve had a really good time, and I’d rather part as friends than take it to a point where one of us will be hurt.”

Sadie nodded again, at a loss for words. She felt like a junior high student and a very old woman all at the same time. “Does this mean we’re not going to the movie?” she asked.

Pete smiled, but this one seemed to break his guarded expression. This time he looked sad. Sadie felt the lump in her throat thicken. “I’d go to a movie with you anytime, Sadie, but . . . are you sure you wouldn’t rather check in with Eric and see how he’s doing? I imagine this isn’t an easy time for him. Perhaps he could use . . . a friend.”

The ride home was awkward, to say the least. There wasn’t much to talk about and all Sadie could think of saying when Pete walked her to her front door was “I’m sorry.”

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Call me when you want to catch that movie—no strings attached.”

Sadie stepped forward and he automatically reached out his arms and pulled her into a hug that felt so comfortable, so right despite the decision they’d reached. He seemed to hold her a few seconds longer than was warranted before letting her go. They shared a look and Sadie reminded herself that this really was for the best. Finally, she thanked him and waited on the porch while he returned to his car and drove around the cul-de-sac, his headlights illuminating the other houses in the circle as he made his way out. When he turned onto the street, the cul-de-sac seemed darker than it had been when they’d arrived.

Sadie pulled her jacket closed. The days might be warming up, but the nights were still laced with the chill of a Rocky Mountain winter. Pete’s car was long gone before Sadie let herself into the house. She felt tears come to her eyes and scolded herself for hurting a perfectly good man. But had she hurt him? He’d been rather logical about the whole thing—perhaps even relieved. Maybe Eric was just an excuse for Pete to extract himself from a relationship he didn’t want any more. And was it fair for Sadie to continue things as they were when she
did
have these feelings for Eric?

“Oh, biscuits,” Sadie said as she shut the door behind her. She hated having to sort out all these thoughts. Thank goodness for the smell of cinnamon and ginger that still hung in the air from the morning’s baking. Her mood couldn’t help but lighten, and her eyes settled on the baking rack still full of cookies. She hadn’t given
all
of them to Tami. It took three steps to cross the kitchen, another two to retrieve the milk from the fridge, and then three more to get a plate and a cup from the cupboard.

The spices zinged exactly as they should, and she savored every bite, knowing she dared not have more than three cookies. Maybe four. She’d managed to lose seven pounds over the last several weeks and didn’t want to undo her progress by getting carried away.

Then again, this was a unique situation. A five-cookie situation, perhaps.

Or six.

After finishing the final cookie, her stomach rebelled at the thought of more. She obeyed, and put the rest of the cookies on a plate. Eric had liked them, and she’d promised him the recipe. As Pete had suggested, she imagined that Eric did need a friend about now. Her stomach flip-flopped, and not because of the cookies. Was visiting Eric appropriate after what had happened earlier? And yet, didn’t ignoring his situation make her uncompassionate?