Minor Adjustments (11 page)

Devon arrived at the bowling alley twenty minutes late. When he’d phoned Beth to let her know he’d be getting off work earlier that night, she’d spontaneously planned a night out. And Devon was glad. For the first time in three days, he would get to see Ryan awake.

The large, open room reflected the glow of the black lights. Florescent pinks, yellows, and greens covered the walls like graffiti. Beth had called it “midnight bowling” even though it was only seven o’clock.

People milled about eating, drinking, bowling, and playing video games. Across the room, Ryan, wearing a glowing white shirt, pushed a neon green bowling ball down a ramp. It rolled slowly down the slick wooden floor, bounced off the bumpers a few times, and knocked over the two remaining pins. He jumped up and down as an excited squeal floated across the room. “I did it! I knocked all the pins down!”

Devon grinned and moved forward to greet them.

“Give me rocks,” Beth said to Ryan, making a fist.

Ryan balled his fingers and punched Beth’s fist with his own. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, I’m good!”

Beth winced and pulled her fingers away, then scooped Ryan in for a hug. “You are totally going to beat Devon when he gets here.”

“Who’s going to beat me?” Devon asked.

Ryan charged straight into his arms. “Yay, you’re here!”

“Sorry I’m late.”

Beth shrugged. “I figured you would be, so they’ve been letting us practice. I’ll go tell them we’re ready now.”

“Thanks.” Despite Devon’s initial concerns, Beth had been great during the past few days, playing the role of nanny. Even after a long day with Ryan, she still greeted Devon with a smile each night. She would rub his shoulders while they talked, then leave when Devon started yawning. She really was wonderful.

So why couldn’t he get close to her again? Why, whenever he stopped to catch his breath, would his thoughts drift to a certain blue-eyed blonde in Australia, rather than to Beth—someone he was once engaged to marry?

Devon couldn’t say, nor did he want to worry about it any longer that night. He’d rather enjoy the evening and hang out with his favorite little guy.

“Come on. You need to pick out your ball.” Ryan tugged on his hand. “I’ll show you where.”

“Will you help me pick one out?”

Ryan nodded and dragged Devon over to the racks of balls. “I like that one.” He pointed to a fifteen-pound neon orange ball.

“Great choice.”

Ryan bowled first, so out came the ramp and up came the bumpers. The ramp went away for Beth’s turn, but the bumpers remained. When Devon’s turn came, the bumpers disappeared.

“You’re that scared I’ll win?” Devon asked Beth.

“I like to think of it as insurance,” said Beth. “Now how about a bet for old times’ sake?”

“Sure, why not?” A group of teenagers bowled a few lanes down. They looked nice enough. “Let’s say the loser has to convince one of those kids to let them bowl their turn?”

Beth grinned. “Deal.”

For the next hour, they bowled, laughed, and taunted. When Beth got a strike, Ryan jumped up and down and gave her five.

“I’m winning,” Beth mouthed to Devon, her smile wide.

This is good. This is what I want. Right?

Right.

Then why did it feel like something was missing—someone was missing?

You’re an idiot, Devon. Stella’s an infatuation—nothing more.

Even if she were more, she couldn’t get much farther away than Australia. Beth, on the other hand, was here—right in front of him. Available and ready for a commitment.

In the tenth frame, Beth landed another two strikes, making her the official winner. She glanced meaningfully at the scoreboard and then flashed Devon a “Well, what are you waiting for?” look. He followed her gaze to the group of teenagers.

Crap. The bet. Would Beth really make him do it? Yes. Beth had never been one to let him off the hook. Groaning, Devon picked up his ball and sauntered to a girl who was just about to bowl.

“Hey, do you mind if I have a go?” he asked.

The girl paused. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah. I’ve been eyeing your lane all night. The floor looks smoother and faster, and since I have a sort of fetish about which lanes I’ll bowl on, I wanted to try it out.” The look on the girl’s face made Devon feel like he’d grown two heads. He struggled to keep a straight face. “Please? If I promise to get a strike for you?”

“Uh, sure . . .” She stepped aside. “You better get a strike though.”

“No problem.” Devon lined up, ignoring the muffled laughter of her friends. A few steps forward and he launched the ball down the lane. Pins went flying—all but two. A 7-10 split.

Woops.

The girl glared. “Thanks a lot.”

“Uh, sorry about that. I guess this lane isn’t so great after all. Thanks anyway, though, and good luck with that.” Devon nodded toward the pins as he walked away.

Beth greeted him with giggles. “That was priceless.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He could still feel the girl’s glare burning into his back. “Time to go, Ryan.”

“But I want to play another game,” he whined.

“Sorry, but other people are waiting to use the lane, so we need to go.”

“I don’t want to go!” Arms crossed, Ryan stomped his foot.

No. Not a tantrum. Not now. “How about we stop for dessert on the way home instead?”

Ryan appeared mollified until Beth said, “No, Devon. Ryan doesn’t get rewarded if he whines or cries.”

Ryan’s face crumpled, and his words came out as a half-cry, half-whine, “But I want dessert!”

“We don’t get what we want when we cry and whine,” Beth repeated. “Now come on. It’s time to go.”

Ryan’s cries escalated, and Devon felt the stirrings of a headache. Maybe Beth was right—maybe he shouldn’t have bribed Ryan, but the boy was only four. Could he really be expected not to whine when he wanted to keep bowling? And why did Beth feel the need to take over? She might as well have said, “Devon, you obviously don’t know what you’re doing.” Why couldn’t she just stand back and let Devon handle things his own way?

Stella would have.

Ahhhh! He needed to stop comparing them.

Sighing, Devon picked up a screaming, wriggly boy. After fighting to get him buckled into the car, Ryan wailed during most of the ride home. By the time they pulled into the complex’s parking lot though, he’d fallen asleep. Thank goodness.

“You don’t need to come up with us,” Devon said when Beth turned off the engine. “I’m sure you’re tired and want to get home.”

“Oh . . . yeah, thanks. I guess I’ll see you in the morning then?” She looked disappointed.

“Thanks, Beth. Tonight was fun.”

She leaned over and brushed her lips across Devon’s. When she backed away, worry lines creased her brow before she masked it with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

Devon drove into his parking space in the underground lot of his apartment and stretched his neck from side to side. It was late, dark, and cold outside, but winter was nearly over and the brief moments of sunshine reminded him that spring was on its way. He left the engine running and picked up his phone.

The first night in Chicago, Devon had called Stella to keep her updated on Ryan. After that, there wasn’t much to say about Ryan since Devon rarely saw him. Still, he called every night. He liked hearing Stella’s voice; liked the way she could coax the tension from his shoulders and make him smile.

“G’day.” The dimly lit parking garage seemed to brighten at the sound of her charming, Australian-accented voice.

“Hey,” Devon said.

“You sound tired.”

“I never want to look at another business or legal document ever again. Selling a company is a lot more complex than I ever realized.”

Stella laughed, a lilting sound that infused him with energy. Devon pressed the phone closer to his ear.

“When will you officially sign?” she asked.

“Friday.” Only two more days and his company was no longer his. Two more days and he’d officially be unemployed. What then? How would Devon stay busy? Where would life take him? He didn’t know.

“Did you get the package I sent?”

“Yeah. It came yesterday. And thanks. I’ve always wanted to sign a stack of papers with a platypus pen.”

“You mock, but platypuses are good luck over here.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“Liar.”

“Well they should be,” Stella said. “Has Ryan eaten all of the TimTams yet? He loves those.”

“All gone. But he did share a few with me and even taught me how to make a TimTam slam, which was brilliant of him. Those cookies are awesome. I’m trying to find where I can buy them here.”

“He is brilliant,” Stella agreed. “And TimTams are the best.”

“Which leaves me to wonder why you never told me about them while I was in Sydney. I would have bought an extra suitcase and stuffed it full.”

“Now you have a reason to come back.”

“A very good reason,” he said, thinking more about Stella than the cookies. “So what random fact are you going to entertain me with today?” It had started as a joke, something to tease her about, but the tradition stuck, and Devon looked forward to hearing the crazy, random things she spouted off every night.

“Did you know that dueling is legal in Paraguay as long as both duelers are registered blood donors?”

She never disappointed him. “Seriously?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Are they that desperate for blood over there or something?”

“Blood or brains, I’m not sure which.”

Devon laughed, knowing he should end the call. Beth was waiting. But there was something magnetic about Stella that made him want to keep the connection alive, at least for a little longer. She had a way of hugging him with her voice.

“You doing okay?” Stella asked.

“I’m good.”

“Okay. Tell Ryan I love him and miss him.”

“I will. He misses you too. In fact, he told me this morning that I needed to take the platypus pen to work and sign all the papers today. That way I wouldn’t have to be gone any more days and we could call you again from the computer.”

“I’m looking forward to that too.” There was a short pause before she said, “Until tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow it is.”

The parking garage lost its brilliance as Devon ended the call and headed toward the elevator. Another twenty-four hours and he could call her again. Hear her voice. Picture her smile. Wish she didn’t live in Australia.

Upstairs, Devon found Beth curled up in a recliner, reading a book. She closed it when she saw him. “How did everything go today?”

“Fine.” Not wanting to talk about it again, Devon made his way to the kitchen and opened the microwave where he found a plate of spaghetti. Beth was thoughtful like that.

“Thanks for this,” Devon said, holding up the plate. “How was your day?”

Beth came up behind him and massaged his shoulders while he ate. “It was good. We went to the indoor playland at the mall and rented a movie tonight. Ryan is such a sweetheart. I’ve really loved spending time with him.”

“He seems to like you.”

“I’m glad.” Her hands stilled and she pulled up a seat next to him. “But what about you? Do you like me too?”

Devon chewed slowly on the noodles, turning them into mush. Once he swallowed, he’d have no excuse not to answer the question, so his jaw continued to move up and down. Why hadn’t he prepared for this conversation? He’d known it would come sooner or later.

Finally Devon swallowed. “Of course I like you.” It sounded lame, but he couldn’t pretend something he didn’t feel. Not any longer. He liked Beth, yes, but more as a friend than a potential wife.

Looking away, Beth said, “Ryan told me he gets to fly on another airplane on Saturday.”

Devon should have known Ryan would say something. Why had he waited so long to tell her? “I’m sorry. I was going to talk to you tonight about that.”

“It’s just that I thought things were going pretty well with us and that you’d want to stick around for a while to see . . . We’ve hardly spent any time together. I feel like you’re leaving before you’ve really given us a chance. Or are you planning to take Ryan home and come back?”

The hope in her eyes made Devon want to grimace. Beth was right. He hadn’t given her a chance. Not really. But what chance was there when he couldn’t get Stella off his mind?

“Listen.” Devon reached for her hand. “When you first called, I hoped that things could work out between us—that we could find a way to pick up the pieces and start over.”

“There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”

“Beth, you’re gorgeous, intelligent, kind, and you’ve been so great with Ryan . . . but things are different now—between us anyway. I really don’t think we’re a great fit anymore. Maybe I’ve changed, or maybe Ryan has changed me, but our differences seem bigger to me than they used to be.”

Beth frowned. “I don’t understand how you can say that when you’ve spent most of your time at the office. I mean, you’re basing that assumption on what? The few hours we’ve spent together? What kind of basis is that?”

Devon hated conversations like this. There was never a win-win, not when two people felt differently. Taking a breath, he tried again. “I know it seems unfair and maybe you’re right, but—”

Beth leaned over and pushed her lips against his. Her fingers circled his neck and pulled him closer, as if her passion alone could change his mind. At first Devon kissed her back, hoping to feel a spark of something—anything. But when thoughts of Stella intruded, he backed away, knowing he wasn’t being fair.

Hurt filled Beth’s eyes. “How can you not feel anything? We used to have such great chemistry.”

“There’s someone else.” Devon immediately wished the words back. Idiot. So not the right thing to say right now.

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. If there’s someone else, why did you let me think that things could work out? Why did you bring Ryan and let me believe he could be mine one day?”

How to explain without making it worse? “Honestly, Beth, I thought there was a chance. I really did love you and I thought those feelings would come back. I wanted them to come back. Otherwise I would have left Ryan in Oregon.”

“You’re not making sense. Why would you want to feel something for me if there’s someone else?”

“Because . . .” How could he explain?

Jaw clenched, Beth turned away from him. “Who is she?”

“Someone I met in Australia.”

“You were only there two weeks!”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Devon hadn’t been fair to her. He should be prosecuted and sentenced. But to what, exactly? Public humiliation and a good flogging? Two hundred hours of community service? What was the appropriate punishment for hurting someone you cared about?

Devon covered her hand with his. “Listen, Beth. I want to thank you. For everything. I really appreciate you watching Ryan for me. And don’t worry about tomorrow. He can come with me.”

Tears sparkled in her eyes as she shook her head. “No. I’ll watch him until you’ve signed the contract, if you’ll let me. It will give me a chance to say good-bye. He’s really grown on me, you know.”

“He has that effect on people.”

Slowly, Beth stood and picked up her purse. “I’m sorry too. I should have had more faith in you, seen what you could become. If only I’d known . . . I’d never have broken off our engagement.”

“There’s someone better for you out there, Beth. I know it. You deserve someone great.”

“Yeah, I do.” Beth smiled through tear-filled eyes. “Good-bye, Devon.”

“Good-bye, Beth.”

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

Five o’clock. Time for Stella to head to the train station and home to her small, empty flat and wild larakeets. That is, unless she left the city and headed north to Byron Bay. So, so tempting.

If only it wasn’t a ten-hour drive.

Stella sighed and shoved her cell phone into her bag. Devon had officially signed the paperwork today. His company was no longer his, and tomorrow they’d fly back to Oregon. When they’d talked, Stella hadn’t dared ask who “they” included. She hadn’t wanted to know.

But then she’d pictured Devon holding hands with Beth, kissing Beth, proposing to Beth. A small happy family flying back to Oregon together. Stella should have asked. At least then she would have known the truth and not been left to imagine the worst.

When Devon finally called the following afternoon, Stella lounged on her patio, enjoying the fresh air as she tried to concentrate on a book. “Hey,” she said.

“I know I promised you could talk to Ryan on the webcam tonight, but he fell asleep on the drive home from the airport. I didn’t want to wake him.”

“That’s all right. I’ll talk with him tomorrow.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“How did everything go?”

“Well, I’m now officially unemployed. But on the bright side, Ryan managed to charm our flight attendant into giving us extra packages of snacks, so if we ever find ourselves starving on the street somewhere, at least we’ll have some peanuts.”

Stella smiled. “So, how does it feel to be free?”

“Free. That’s nice. It sounds so much better than unemployed. And it feels strange—not to mention a little scary. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all my time now. Maybe I could take up meditating.”

“I’m sure Ryan would sit quietly by and let you.”

Devon chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But we plan to start house hunting on Monday, so that should give us something to do.”

“Us?” Stella bent and unbent the corner of a page in her book.

“Uh . . . Ryan and me. Remember? Little boy? Curly hair? Any of this ringing a bell?”

So much for finding out the easy way. “What about Beth?”

“What about her?”

Honestly. Was he doing it on purpose? “Is she with you? Did you get back together? Are you engaged again?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? It didn’t work out.” Said so simply and just like that. Over and done, like Beth was never a big part of his life.

“For you or for her?”

“For me or for her what?”

For a smart guy, Devon was certainly dense. Stella slowed her words down. “It didn’t work out for you, or for her?”

“Oh.” He paused. “For me, I guess.”

And . . . ? And nothing. Of course there was no additional explanation. Did Stella really think there would be?
Let it go, Stella. Just let it go.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Things just weren’t the same.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Is it
over
over, or are you still hoping things will work out eventually?”

“Why does it matter?”

Because I like you, you idiot, and it’s driving me crazy not to know.
“Your future affects Ryan, so I’m curious.”

“It’s
over
over, okay?”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” Stella lied. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. It was actually a good thing I took Ryan with me. Without him, I might not have realized we weren’t a good fit.”

“Ryan didn’t give her a hard time, did he?” Stella pictured Ryan somehow sabotaging the relationship. If so, he deserved some more TimTams.

“Of course not. Ryan charmed her like he does everyone.”

Of course he did. Of course he charmed Beth. She’d probably fallen for him just like everyone did. Poor girl. Stella didn’t have to imagine what Beth was probably going through right now. “Is she okay?”

“For crying out loud, Stella. I’m fine, Ryan’s fine, and Beth is fine. Everyone’s fine.”

I’m not.
“Okay, then.”

“Great. Are we through with the twenty questions now? Because I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Sure.” Stella waited for him to change the subject. When he didn’t, she said, “I guess I’ll talk to you later?”

“I’ll have Ryan call tomorrow night.” Then he was gone.

Ryan. He would have Ryan call. Not Devon. As much as Stella looked forward to seeing Ryan’s face light up her monitor, she also felt an achy emptiness inside—a feeling that was becoming all too familiar.

Leaving the patio behind, Stella walked inside her flat, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door. She needed to get out.

She needed to get a life.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

Devon found his mother feeding Ryan a Vegemite sandwich in the kitchen. Yes, Vegemite. Another gift from Stella. Everywhere he went, something reminded him of her. Why did she have to live in Australia anyway? Why couldn’t she live somewhere closer? He’d even take New York or Florida right now.