welcome, Daddy.”
The next day, Lori saw Tucker at church again. And at the diner afterward. He kept catching her eye. Her pulse would race and her palms would sweat—and she would smile and nod and look away.
Later in the afternoon, Lori and her mom and sister were sitting at the kitchen table poring over fabric sample books, discussing window treatments for the new house Lena and Dirk would move into as soon as they returned from their honeymoon. The phone rang and Lori jumped. She knew it would be him.
Her mother turned in her chair and snared the receiver off the wall behind her as Lori actively resisted the compulsion to shriek, Don’t answer that!
“Why, hello Tucker.” Enid actually wiggled her eyebrows at Lori—as Lena jabbed an elbow in Lori’s ribs.
“Hey!” Lori grumbled. Her sister only giggled—and wiggled her own eyebrows. Lori wanted to grab one of the fabric sample books and bop her twin on the head with it.
“Well, as it so happens,” Lori’s mother cooed into the phone. “She’s sitting right here. Hold on.” Enid covered the mouthpiece and shoved it at Lori. “Tucker,” she whispered dramatically, as if Lori didn’t already know.
Lori took the phone. “Hello, Tucker.”
“Hey.” His voice, so warm and deep, made her want to burst into tears. What was that old saying about liars weaving a tangled web? Oh, they did. They truly did. Lori felt the thick, many-layered web of her own dishonesty pulling tight around her, cutting off her air. He added, “I had a great time the other night…”
“Me, too,” she heard herself saying. It was the truth—just not all the truth. “Thanks again.”
“Any time—like, say, tonight? I’ll pick you up at six. We can drive into Abilene. I know a great little Mexican place there.”
“Tonight?” Dread coiled through her like a snake gathering to strike. She imagined the two of them—alone, with no interruptions.
And plenty of time to talk.
No. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be alone with him again and not tell him—or maybe, on second thought, she could be alone with him and not tell him. And that scared her most of all.
The other night had been bad enough, but at least then, she’d had the excuse that he and Brody were getting to know each other a little, that if even she wanted to tell him, it simply was not the time.
But if Brody weren’t there, if it were just the two of them…
No. Bad, bad idea.
Her sister and her mother were both nodding frantically. She turned and faced the wall so she wouldn’t have to look at them. “Oh, really. I’d better not.” Behind her, Lena and Enid let out sharp groans of disapproval.
Tucker allowed a long beat of silence echo down the line before he repeated flatly, “Better not?”
She rushed into a totally fake reason why she couldn’t go. “We have the big family Sunday dinner tonight and…” She let the excuse finish itself. It sounded so lame.
He thought so, too. She could hear it in his voice when he tried again. “How about later in the week, then? We could—”
“Tucker, I really can’t.”
He was silent. Way too silent. Behind her, she heard her mother and sister fluttering and fuming. She stared bleakly at the wall.
Finally, Tucker said, “I don’t get it. I thought—”
She couldn’t bear to hear him say it. “Listen. I wonder…”
“What?” The word was wariness personified.
It was a moment of total desperation. Oh, God. What to say next?
And right then, the idea came to her…
She knew what to do. She saw the way to lock herself in to the moment of truth. She’d set aside the time for it now. Right now.
An appointment. Yes. She’d make an appointment to tell him and she’d make it today.
“Hold on,” she said to him. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure,” he replied, as if he wasn’t sure in the least.
She punched the mute button and whirled on her hovering mother and sister. “I’m taking this in the other room,” she told them in her most threatening tone.
They both put up their hands and fluttered their eyelashes to let her know they would neither of them ever presume to butt in on her life or her private conversations. She turned and left them, headed for the half-bath off the kitchen, where she shut and locked the door before punching the mute button again.
“Tucker?”
“I’m still here.” He sounded like he kind of wished he wasn’t. She didn’t blame him in the least.
Get on with it, she thought. “I need an appointment. At your office. I need it for a week from Monday. Do you think you could fit me in then?”
A gaping moment of silence ensued. Then, at last, “Is this about a legal matter?”
“Uh. Yeah. That’s right.” Well, it was. Kind of. “Could you see me then? A week from Monday?”
“Lori, I have to tell you, this is pretty damn strange.”
She couldn’t have agreed with him more. “Will you see me? At your office?”
Another silence and then, finally, “Sure. Call my secretary and make an appointment.”
“Thank you, I…Tucker?” He didn’t answer. “Tucker?” About then, she realized she was talking to air.
Tucker had hung up.
“But you like him,” argued Lena, when Lori returned to the kitchen and told them she wouldn’t be going out with Tucker.
“And, honey,” said her mother. “He’s really settled down. Why, half the single women in town would be thrilled to go out with him.”
“Then he should ask one of them—now, could we just not talk about this anymore? Please?”
“I don’t understand you,” said Lena. “I just never have…”
Tucker didn’t understand it.
He’d thought, judging by Thursday night, that he and Lori were on the same page. That at least she was attracted to him, that she’d be willing to see where things might go between them.
Guess not.
She wouldn’t go out with him—but she wanted to discuss some damn legal issue with him. It made zero sense.
He ought
