style="font-size:15px;"> “I hear Seamus calling me,” Annie lied. “Must run. Bye, kids!”
Ian and I walked over to where the cop was still holding court with his beautiful German shepherd under the elm tree. “So how are you doing, Ian?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” he answered. He glanced at me. “You really did a nice job on this. So many people came.”
“I thought you did great, too,” I said, risking a quick squeeze to his arm. Ooh. Nice arm. Nice and strong with all that dog-hefting or whatever. Cat hurling. Whatever.
We gave the good sergeant a donation to the cops’ union and thanked him. The fair was winding down, though Josephine had found the microphone and was serenading the stragglers with her favorite song. “‘Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me,’” she sang as Seamus head-bopped agreeably in the background. Annie and I had high hopes for a marriage between them someday.
“Callie, I’m headed home,” Noah said. He was rubbing his leg, but he gave Ian a terse nod.
“Sure, Noah,” I said. “I have to stay a little and make sure everything’s settled, but don’t worry. I’ll catch a ride.” I wasn’t in a horrible hurry, to be honest. It was 4:00 p.m. on a Saturday. I didn’t have plans, though the River Rats had invited me to hang out with them. I believed it was their monthly mojito night, not to be confused with their monthly martini night, beer night, wine night, mint julep night …
“I’ll drive you home,” Ian said.
“Thanks,” I said. “That would be great.”
“I’ll bring Bowie,” Noah said, then hobbled off toward his pickup truck, his uneven gait more pronounced than usual.
“His leg must be hurting,” I said. “He hates wearing the prosthesis. We’ve tried eight different models.” I frowned. “Can we stop at the pharmacy on the way home? He’s out of Lanacane, and I’ll bet he won’t remember to pick some up.” Glancing at my watch, I winced. “Shoot, they’re closed already.”
“I have some in the office,” Ian said.
“Really? Thanks, Ian,” I said. “See? You’re getting good at this nice thing. Just like me.”
He gave me a tolerant look, and I smiled.
As we approached the office, a new-model Saab pulled into the lot. The driver got out. I recognized her immediately—it was the woman from the ladies’ room at Whoop & Holler. The one who told me I wasn’t an idiot.
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “How you doing, Kate Spade?”
“Hi there, fabulous shoe woman!” she called right back. “How are you?” Then she looked at Ian, and her expression softened. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said. I sensed a tremor in the Force, if you know what I meant. Ian had gone very still.
“I didn’t realize you had an … event,” she said, gesturing to where the rental folks were taking down the tent.
“Yes,” he said, offering no more. They looked at each other for a moment, the air suddenly was crackling and brittle.
“Got a minute?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, then, turning to me, added, “Callie, though I take it you’ve already met somehow, this is Laura Pembers. My ex-wife.”
THOUGH I OH-SO-CASUALLY circled the building with Angie, I was unable to find a spot where I could eavesdrop on Ian and Laura without climbing a stepladder and pressing my ear against the window … and sadly, I didn’t see a ladder anywhere.
The last of the pet fair people left, trickling away with waves and compliments. I kissed my nieces and managed to catch Seamus and kiss him as well, though he was getting to the age where he kind of hated, kind of loved that sort of public display. With a sigh, I flopped on the grass under a pear tree, the silvery leaves rustling slightly in the breeze. Angie joined me, lying down with her front paws crossed daintily as if she were the Queen of England. I stroked her silky fur and was rewarded when she put her head in my lap.
So. Ian’s ex-wife was gorgeous, friendly and most important, had great taste in accessories. I remembered thinking that night in the ladies’ room that she looked familiar, and now I knew why. Her picture was still in Ian’s office, though her hair was shorter and darker now. I don’t think he’s over his ex-wife, Carmella had told me the first day I’d come to check Ian out. Ian himself told me he wasn’t looking for a relationship. So I guess I knew what he’d meant that day, when he’d told me I didn’t have to try so hard with him. It didn’t mean he was interested in me. And heck, he’d made that clear, hadn’t he? Actions spoke louder than words. He’d never touched me, except to help me into the kayak. Certainly didn’t flirt. So what if he laughed this morning? I was easy to laugh at.
I heard a car door close, then an engine start. As Laura drove down the driveway, she slowed. I stood up and waved. “Nice to meet you, Callie!” she called. Angie woofed softly.
“Same here,” I shouted back. Then I headed back toward the building where Ian stood looking where Laura’s car had been, his hands in his pockets, face more than a little grim.
“Hi,” I said, and he started.
“Hi,” he said, not looking at me. “I’m sorry, I forgot the Lanacane. Come on in.”
I followed him into the office and waited while he disappeared down the hall. A few seconds later he was back, his suit jacket and tie over his arm, the tube of cream in his hand. His face was tight, and he didn’t look at me.
“Everything okay, Ian?” I asked gently.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I offered.
“No.”
“Okay. Well, I appreciate the cream. Noah will, too.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched, and he managed to cut his eyes to me, then looked away once more. “She’s getting married.”
I bit my lip. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I knew already … she wrote to me about a month ago. I just haven’t seen her for a while.” He paused. “They should get married. They’re … right for each other.” He shrugged unconvincingly. “Let’s go.”
Angie came the nanosecond she was called, jumping into the way back of Ian’s Subaru, where there was a dog bed for her comfort. I got in the passenger door. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, buckling my seat belt.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for today. It was very nice.”
I could tell his mind was elsewhere. For a change, I managed to keep my mouth shut as we drove home. Autumn was here, brilliant and blazing. The fields glowed with good health, and black-and-white cows lined the fence at the edge of the road at the Valasquez farm. But my heart hurt for Ian.
When we pulled into Noah’s Arks, Ian spoke again, though he stared straight ahead. “Callie,” he
