Really Something (15 page)

She didn't say anything, just watched him with those wide, understanding green eyes, her hand on his, a comfort unlike any he had had before. Duncan, the one who had been reliable, the rock for Katie to stand on, who had only relied on one other person before in his life, now found himself opening the door inside his heart, allowing the summer breeze, the soft squeak of the wheelchair, and the happy sound of Katie's laughter to open a wall he'd long ago cemented shut.

“My father expected everything to be perfect. His house. His land. His clothes. His children. And when we weren't…” His gaze went to the house, to the one thing in the house he hadn't sold off, taken down, removed from the walls, that one piece of wood that reminded him, haunted his memories, hung there, a reminder of where he'd come from and where he refused to go again. “He had ways of reminding us what failure cost.”

“Dunk, I'm going to put these in some water,” Katie called, then waved her brother back down when he rose. “I can do it.” She wheeled past him, smiling, daises across her lap, dog trotting along with her, as she negotiated up the ramp and into the kitchen.

“That paddle over the door,” Allie said, her voice a whisper. “He beat you. Both of you.”

Duncan swallowed, bile thick in his throat. “Only me. I never let him touch Katie.”

“You…you…” Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my God,
Duncan
.”

“That's why I let her…” His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes, dropped his head into his hands, letting that weight of guilt sit on his shoulders, needing to share the burden with someone. “Let her have that party. My father had always been so hard on her. Maybe she reminded him of our mother, who died when we were both little. Maybe it was because Katie hardly ever did a thing he told her, I don't know. He never touched her, I made sure of that, but my father was a bastard in so many other ways. Katie got away with as much as she could, living off and on in that house with my aunt, but she kept coming back home.”

“Why would she come back?”

Duncan's smile cracked across his face, painful, short. “She wouldn't leave me.”

“And you won't leave her.”

“I can't. It's—” But before he could get the words out, before that gorilla could leave his shoulders, the backdoor opened with a squeak and his sister's face, bright, happy, excited, for the first time in years, met his.

“I have an idea, Duncan Henry,” Katie said. “And you are not allowed to say no.”

He cleared his throat, wiped the emotion off his face and got to his feet. “That could be dangerous. Last time you had an idea, I ended up giving a lot of money to the nice folks at Home Shopping Network.”

“Hey, I was bored. And Tootie kept tooting her little horn. I was just joining the festivities.” Katie sat back in her chair, looking very pleased with herself. In her lap, she had exchanged the flowers for the cordless phone. “I want the two of you to go out together. Alone.”

“No can do, Katie-bird. Can't leave you by yourself, you know that.”

She rolled up to them. “Too bad. I already took care of it. Called the visiting nurses and got myself a little RN care for the evening. Made a reservation at Margie's for their best booth.” At that she grinned because they all knew there was no best booth at the diner. “Because I knew you wouldn't go too far away, you big worrywart.” She gave Duncan a good-natured slug, but he could see she, too, wanted him nearby. There'd been major strides made today, but she still needed him.

Two steps forward, one step back. Katie had yet to leave the security of house, because she didn't want anyone to see her like this. But she'd come this far, and he dared to hope for more.

“You have a half hour until the nurse gets here. Enough time for you to change into something respectable.”

“I am respectable.” He opened his arms, indicating his suit.

“Oh, please. You wore that for half the women in southern Indiana today. Wear something just for Allie. And for God's sake, make it a color other than blue.”

Allie arched a brow, and Duncan grinned. “Inside joke,” he said. He took a step toward the house, then turned back to his sister. “Are you really going to be okay?”

“Eventually, yes,” Katie said. “Someday, Duncan, you have to quit worrying about me and let me start doing it for myself.” She gave him a little shove. “Now go. Because if Allie can do all this for me, imagine what she can do for you.”

Duncan glanced at the dog, at his sister's flushed with excitement face, then at the woman who had both opened his world and his heart, and for the first time in five years, he looked forward to his future.

Dinner at Margie's diner was about the best entertainment people could buy in a town like Tempest. At five o'clock, the senior citizen rush started—all those wheelchairs and walkers jostling one another out of the way in a metal-on-metal race to get their meal ordered before the 15-percent off special ended at six.

Around Allie and Duncan's booth, a rousing game of one-upmanship had sprung up among the men from the Miller's Merry Manor. “I had the gout so bad, they 'bout had to amputate my toe,” Joe Swanson grumbled, lifting his booted foot, ready to whip out a little show-and-tell.

Petey Simpson waved a hand in dismissal. “That's nuthin'. I'm crippled as a three-legged dog with this damned arthritis. I had to have Doris open the pickles, for God's sake.”

“That's when you know it's time to hang it up and call game over,” Harry Lincoln grumbled, crossing his arms over his plaid flannel shirt. Always the pessimist, Harry had more frown lines than crow's-feet. Allie bit her lip to keep from laughing. The three men hadn't changed at all in the years she'd been gone. They hadn't even moved from their favorite table. They still lingered there now, even though the clock said it had long gone past seven. “It's damned embarrassin' when a man can't turn a jar.”

Duncan glanced at Allie and grinned. “Now there's something to look forward to.”

She laughed. “Some things never change.”

“Around here,” Duncan replied as he slipped his menu back into the chrome holder, “
nothing
ever changes.”

“Oh, some things do.” Allie looked at her hands, splayed across the table, her fingers no longer the thick sausage-like appendages of her youth. “I'm sure,” she added.

“You know, ever since I met you, I've had the weirdest feeling, like I should know you.”

Don't let him put the pieces together. Not yet. Not before…

Before what? What did she want?

A little more than a week ago, she'd been standing in front of the
Welcome to Tempest
sign, chucking rocks at it, venting years of frustration, disappointment, and hurt, with half those rocks aimed at the Duncan Henry who had broken her heart.

Now she sat in Margie's diner, having dinner with him, her heart becoming more entangled by the second, the pain of those high school years seeming a century away. Her job, her reason for being here, seeming even farther.

Especially whenever she looked at the six-foot-two hunk and her mind brought back the image of kissing him. The memory of touching him. How it felt whenever he touched her.

“Why would you say you know me?” The laugh that escaped her did not betray the riot in her gut.

Because if he found out now, and he rejected her again, as he had on prom night—

That worry alone was a sign she was too involved, caring too much.

“You look familiar somehow.” He shook his head, then sat back, putting some distance between them. A long breath of relief escaped Allie. “Must be your long-lost twin or something because I've never been to L.A. and you've never been here.”

She nodded, because she didn't trust her voice to echo the lie.

“I bet being here in Tempest is a big shock, huh? Compared to California.”

“You have no idea.” Heat climbed her throat, flushing in her cheeks. The booth closed in, as if it had become a giant microscope. Time to turn the subject around, to get herself back on the solid, secure footing she knew. “Haven't you been outside of Tempest?”

“When I graduated high school, I wanted out of this place, never to return again and all that. I went to college on the east coast for two years then came back to finish my degree at Ball State.”

Allie bit back the questions that raced to her mind. The whys, whats, and hows. Duncan had been destined for big things, as the chosen son of the town's wealthiest family. What had made him return?

And even more, buck the plan his father had laid out for him, as surely and evenly as railroad tracks?

At the next table, Joe Swanson got to his feet, plopping his worn, multicolored fly-decorated fishing cap on his head. “Well, boys, time for me to get on home. Gotta soak my foot.”

“Did you try the Epsom salts, like I told you?” Harry wagged a finger at Joe. “I tell you, it cured my athlete's foot.”

“I thought you were supposed to use that Vapor Rub stuff on athlete's foot,” Petey put in, rubbing at his beard. “Not Epsom salts.”

Harry scowled. “I know my home remedies. And I know no vapor's going to take care of that problem.”

The men continued to bicker, touting one OTC option after another. The waitress came and deposited Allie and Duncan's dinners on the table, the meatloaf and mashed potatoes special for Duncan, a chicken Caesar salad for Allie.

“Why did you come back to Tempest?” she asked.

“My family needed me.” He didn't elaborate, busy making inroads in his mashed potatoes. He scooped up a bite, and the dark brown gravy immediately swirled into the space.

Katie. The unspoken word, the pieces of the puzzle she could fill in herself, especially after their earlier conversation. Even she could do the math and figure that out.

“What about you?” Duncan asked. “Any siblings?”

“A younger sister. That's all.” Allie chuckled. “We fought most of our lives, like two tigers wanting the same gazelle.”

A grin of understanding curved across Duncan's face. “And who won?”

“Oh, always Carlene. She was the smarter, prettier one.”

“I find that hard to believe.” His ocean-colored gaze swept over her, hot and interested. Definitely interested.

“Trust me. As a kid, I was no beauty queen.”

He took a sip of soda, then sat back against the vinyl seat. It let out a cheap plastic squeak. “Carlene, huh? I knew a Carlene, a couple years younger than me, I think. She was one of Katie's friends.”

Damn. How could she have been so stupid? She knew how. She'd been caught up in Duncan's smile, his voice, the way he looked at her. No wonder she worked behind the camera. She'd never have made it as an actress. “Hmm,” she said, using her meal as a way to avoid looking at him. “What a coincidence.”

“Yeah. It's not a common name.”

“Common enough where I come from,” she said, hoping he'd believe her. That he'd think everyone in California named their kids Carlene.

“And where is that?
Exactly
?”

“L.A.”

“You want to know what's better than that Vi-a-gra stuff?” Joe said to his pals. Several white-haired male heads swiveled in his directions.

But Duncan either didn't hear or didn't care. “You've lived there all your life?”

This lying straight to his face thing was harder than she'd expected. Allie wasn't a liar by nature. Sweat pooled between her breasts. “I'm full.” She pushed away her plate. “Let's get going.”

“You've barely touched your food.”

“Tiger's claw,” Joe whispered. Then he sat back down and smiled, like a man who was getting some claw three, four times a day. “I swear. My Lucille says she hasn't seen nothin' like it since our honeymoon.”

“Joe, you're a damned liar.” Harry waved a hand in dismissal. “The only thing getting any action in your house is the remote.”

“I kid you not. I start putting this tiger's claw powder in my milk of magnesia and before you know it, I am a lion on the prowl.”

Petey and Harry exchanged glances then let out a series of guffaws. Joe's face reddened, but he held his ground.

“Are you ready to—” Before Allie could finish the sentence, Lisa Connelly and JoAnn Preston strode into Margie's.

“Look at that,” JoAnn said, not quite sotto voce as she nudged Lisa. “Someone got the Blue Plate Special. And then some.”

“What do you mean,
the
special?” Lisa said, with a sneer. “Looks to me like someone had more than one.”

For a split second, it was as if no time had passed, as if some wormhole had jetted Allie back to the high school lunchroom. She forgot she was Allie Dean, forgot Duncan, her dinner, her surroundings.

The past roared to life in her gut, along with every insecurity she'd once had. Then Allie's gaze slid to the right. She cringed when she noticed a woman, a few years older than her and heavier by at least fifty pounds, sitting at a booth, two empty plates on her table.

Allie's past, alive and breathing again, with Lisa and JoAnn, still as vindictive as ever. The woman at the table—their intended victim—sent the girls a glare, then ignored them with a disdainful shake of her head.

“You girls just pay for your food,” Margie said from the counter. “Ten seventy-nine.”

Lisa handed Margie the money, grabbed their bagged takeout orders, then whirled away from the counter, her long white-blond hair a flowing curtain of perfection. She paused when she caught sight of Allie again. She skirted her way past the tables, as if she owned the place, then came to a halt. She took one long second to look Allie over, a cat eyeing the intruding stray. “What are
you
doing here? Trying to steal the heart of Tempest's most eligible bachelor?”

The woman was a bitch. Always had been, probably always would be. The momentary stutter in Allie's confidence disappeared, as a surge of outrage rushed to the surface. Allie refused to let Lisa have any power over her, ever again. “What is your problem?”

“You.” She sneered at Allie. “I'm just watching out for Duncan.”

“Oh, I'm sure you are.” Allie geared up to say something else then realized the diner had gone quiet. Apparently even Joe's new virility discovery was less interesting than a potential catfight.

Allie drew in a breath, refocused herself. The plan. Think of the plan. That was the key to getting back at Lisa for all her cruelty—not flinging words that would likely be forgotten as soon as they hit the air. Besides, stooping to Lisa's level made her no better than Lisa.

And Allie had grown up, become a better woman. She had no intentions of becoming a Lisa herself. But that didn't mean she couldn't still give Lisa just a taste of her own medicine, through the power of the movie set.

Allie forced a bright, friendly smile to her face. “I don't think we've met, by the way.” She thrust out her hand, lowered her voice, as if she were sharing a secret, just with Lisa. The diners resumed their conversations, clearly disappointed no blows were going to be exchanged. “I'm Allie Dean, and I'm in town with a movie production company.”

“Movies.” Lisa turned to JoAnn and gave her friend another elbow. “Did you hear that?”

“You have to keep it quiet, though,” Allie said. “Until Duncan has a chance to interview me for the TV station. He wants the exclusive.”

“Oh, you have my word,” Lisa said.

I wouldn't take that to the bank.
Allie leaned forward, that friendly smile starting to hurt her face. “You have a great figure. Have you ever thought of acting?”

Lisa's eyes widened with surprise, then she cocked one hip to the side, striking a pose. “Acting? Me? Well…maybe.”

“I think I could find a part for you, if you're interested.”

Lisa blushed. “You really think the director would use me? In a real part?”

The plan was going exactly as Allie had envisioned. All those awful things Lisa had said to her in high school would be avenged, albeit on a movie screen, and in phony gore.

“Oh, yes.” Allie smiled. “I'll make sure of it. Here's my card. Give me a ring tomorrow and I'll tell you when the first call is. The director is arriving in a few days and he'll want to get right to work. We're shooting at the old farmhouse on State Road 89.”

“Isn't that where…” Lisa glanced at Duncan.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I'm okay with it.”

A flare of jealousy roared in Allie's gut at the obvious connection between Duncan and Lisa. She tamped it down, then returned the smile to her face. What did she care about Duncan's relationships? She had no claim on him, and wanted no claim. “Remember, this is just between us.”

In an instant, Lisa's entire body language shifted from territorial to best friend. “Oh, I will. Thank you!” She and JoAnn flounced out of Margie's.

After they left, Allie shoved her plate to the side, the food having lost its appeal. She should have been happy, because everything she'd come here for was going exactly as she'd wanted, but for some reason her dinner sat bitter in her stomach, lay flat against her taste buds.

“You have to feel sorry for Lisa,” Duncan said.

“Sorry? For someone who talks to people like that?” Allie took a sip of her water and shook her head. “It's a wonder people keep going to her hair salon.”

“You don't know Lisa's whole story.”