Coming Home to You (24 page)

“Should I go get more help, Mama?” I asked quietly. As willing as I knew Ray was to assist in any way, I’d seen his kitchen skills in action. “Do you want me to get Kate or her mom?”

She looked up from her task and smiled at me, seemingly in her element.

“I think you and I can handle this, Zoë. We just need to get things packed up so that they’ll all cook out on the grill, and then we can let it take care of itself. It’ll be easy,” she said, trying to reassure me.

It sounded a little too simple to me, but I was willing to defer to my mother’s expertise. She’d been doing this much longer than I had, and I’d been witness to her ability to work miracles when none seemed possible.

I decided it was better to smile at the humor of the situation than to continue thinking of it as a lost cause.

“What?” she asked, noting my small smile.

I shook my head. “You. You’re amazing, Mama. Am I ever going to be as amazing as you are?” I asked, meaning every word.

“I’m not amazing, honey. But I
am
your mother, and that makes me
feel
amazing,” she said, her eyes dancing as they welled with tears.

“Hey, now, you two,” Ray interjected, sounding a little bit hoarse. “There’s things to be done in this here kitchen. And last time I checked, there’s no crying in cooking.” He put an arm around each of us and gave a quick squeeze, then wandered toward the door that went from the kitchen to the backyard. “I’m going to go rustle up that grill so you two women can get on with your womanly duties.” He disappeared out the door, leaving it slightly ajar behind him.

Mama shot me a sheepish look. “We scared him off,” she whispered.

“Nah,” I said, grinning widely. “He just doesn’t want you to see him cry,” I whispered back, still smiling.

“Gotcha,” she replied. “Well, Zoë. What say you and I get this birdie pulled apart so it’ll fit in a smaller pan, and then we can wrap up the veggies in tin foil and throw them on the fire. We’ll just have stuff roasting in pans on the grill, and it’ll turn out so good no one will think to ask.”

I wrapped her in a big hug, burying my face in her shoulder again. “Thanks, Mama,” I whispered. “Thanks for everything.”

“I love you, Zoë. Always remember that,” she said.

To: Neil Epstein

From: Zoë Trent

Subject: And the turkey makes way for Santa

Dear Neil,

How was your Thanksgiving? I hope you were able to spend the day in a fittingly festive way and that there was some kind of special dinner.

Speaking of dinner. Ours was quite the interesting phenomenon.
Ours
being my parents, Kate and her parents, Ray, and me. I was quite insistent that I was going to make Thanksgiving dinner this year and have everyone over to celebrate, but your oven had other ideas.

It broke. Right in the middle of everything, it decided it wasn’t going to work. Well, maybe not right in the middle, since I’m not sure when it actually broke, but the turkey sat in a cold oven almost all day. Thankfully, my mother is a genius, and we were able to salvage the whole thing by grilling all of it. It was actually really very good, and though I’m sure everyone wondered why I’d taken such an unorthodox approach, no one said a word. I think maybe they were all afraid to hurt my feelings.

It struck me, as all this was happening, how normal it was.

Normal. I tried to make dinner, and it didn’t go perfectly—but that’s normal. It’s normal to have things go wrong, for things to follow their own order, despite all the best laid plans. And normal is great!

Nothing truly catastrophic happened—the world didn’t end—and everyone enjoyed themselves. Sometimes we have to be reminded of that, I guess.

Anyway, dinner was a success, and the rest of the day was wonderful. I hadn’t gotten to spend much time with my parents in such a long time, and it’s been ages since I’ve seen Kate’s parents. It was a huge treat for me having everyone there. Kate and Ray are so cute together, and I know they enjoyed having everyone all there together. I can’t imagine that Ray isn’t reminded of his own parents during holidays, but I know Kate’s parents already love him. I’m so very glad that both my parents are alive and that we’re close.

Where are your parents? Are they alive, and do they stay in contact with you?

You must be counting down the days… It won’t be long and you’ll be here again, in your own house with your own things.

I hope you’re well and happy and safe, Neil.

Take care, and I look forward to hearing back!

Zoë

I was about to hit the Send button when I realized that I’d never received a response to my last e-mail. My eyebrow furrowed slightly in concern, and I had the fleeting thought that maybe I’d said something in my last message. Did I offend him somehow? Was he just busy, or was he not planning to answer at all? Would this e-mail go without response, as well? I ran through the thoughts, finally shaking my head at how absurd I was being. I needed to stop jumping to conclusions. There was no basis for any amount of panic, no matter how minor. There was no reason to work myself up.

After all, up until now, he’d been great about answering every single one of my e-mails. Most men wouldn’t have bothered, especially not for a woman whom they’d never even laid eyes on and had absolutely no intentions of dating.

Dating. I raised an eyebrow.

Now
there
was an interesting idea. One which I quickly dismissed. I really didn’t need to go there, not now. Right now I had bigger things to think about, more pressing issues to tend to.

Like my new place.

Ray and I had talked quite a bit about the warehouse apartment and even gone back to look at it again, more closely this time, to see if there was anything that needed attention. Ray was insistent that there were ways around paying the full listing price, if I was really determined. It really was a great place, right in the middle of everything, and the improvements that the owners had just made to it were a definite plus. But it was still strange to me to think about moving again, into a place of my own.

It made me a little sad still, even with all the time I’d had to mentally prepare myself for the change. I’d gotten so used to thinking of Neil as some far-off presence that the idea of him being so close was a little bit surreal.

What would he be like in person?

Would he like me?

Would I like him?

Would we become friends, or would we each go our separate ways, only to cross paths once in a great while?

I frowned morosely at the computer screen and sighed. I was thinking way too much. I clicked my mouse and watched the e-mail disappear from the screen, released into the ether. Neil could do with it as he pleased, and I wouldn’t allow myself to dwell on whatever silence ensued.

He was getting ready to come home, so he had plenty of things to keep him busy. He might not have time to respond to an e-mail, but at least he would know that someone was thinking about him.

Mercifully, the phone rang, keeping me from lingering any longer in my decision not to overanalyze.

“Hey, Ray, whaddya say?” I said with more perkiness than I felt.

“Oh, not much,” he replied.

Just as I could usually hear the smile in his voice, I could hear the distraction that was in it now. He may have been the one calling, but I felt somehow as though I was intruding on his headspace.

“Is everything alright? You sound a little funny.”

“Funny ha ha or funny strange?” he deflected.

“Funny strange. Like maybe something’s bothering you,” I replied, not wanting to press too hard, but still feeling the need to know what might be going on. He’d been acting somewhat distant for the past few days. I knew that work was picking up because of the crush of the holiday shoppers all needing their caffeine fix, but it still didn’t settle well with me.

“Are you going to be home later?” he asked tentatively. “I’m working until six tonight. I know it’s last minute and all, but there’s something I need to talk to you about. And I think, the sooner, the better.” There was urgency in his voice that made it impossible to refuse.

“Sure, Ray. That’ll be just fine. Call me when you’re about to leave work, okay? That way I’ll be sure to have any gentleman callers hustled out the back door before you get here,” I quipped.

“Will do. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, just a second before the line went dead.

I frowned, looking at the clock to see how long I would have to wonder what had Ray so tied up in knots. It was just after noon, so I was looking at about five hours of maddening scenarios being fabricated and played out in my head.

I mentally crossed off the long afternoon nap I’d been planning on.

Somehow, I really didn’t think that I would be able to shut my mind off enough to fall asleep before Ray came over. There was something ominous in his tone, and I was starting to feel worry creep up the back of my skull to whisper in my ear. After all, the last few times Ray had sounded this way, he’d had tragic tales to impart.

What more could one man have in his past?

Sometimes, I thought with a mirthless smile, it’s a really good thing that no one can read your mind. I got up from my chair and shuffled to the bathroom, wondering if it might not be time to retire my toothbrush and use it to scour the floors. I was going to need a project for the next few hours, otherwise I might be insane by the time he finally rang the doorbell.

Chapter 24

“Zoë.”

“Ray.”

“Zoë.”

“We could do this all day, Ray. Spit it out.” I was combing the cabinets, scavenging for something that would pass for dinner, but I was completely at a loss. I hadn’t been shopping lately, and the contents of the kitchen had dwindled terribly. It seemed I had a bad habit of doing that.

“Can we go sit in the other room? Please, let’s just go sit down in the other room, okay?” Ray’s voice sounded strained.

I shut the cabinet door slowly and looked at him, trying to read his face. He looked stressed.

“Okay, sure. We’ll go in the living room.” I frowned at him, wondering again what this was all about. “Just calm down a little, okay, Ray? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

I walked past him and went into the living room, taking a seat on the couch and pulling one of the pillows onto my lap. Ray followed closely behind me, warily choosing to sit at the other end of the couch, just on the edge of the cushion. He looked as though he was ready to bolt.

“I’ve been talking to Neil,” he started, pausing to swallow. “He’s, um, he’s…” Ray got up and circled the couch, going over to the window to look out at the street. He ran a hand through his hair and scrubbed his face with the flat of his hand.

I was beginning to imagine all kinds of terrible things, hoping that I was just being ridiculous. The way Ray was acting, though, I couldn’t help but run through a thousand scenarios that were all less than reassuring.

“Neil’s what?” I asked, sitting as still as a statue as I waited for the answer.

Ray turned back to look at me. “Neil’s coming home a week early,” he said finally.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, Ray. Wow.You really scared the crap out of me, you have no idea.” I picked the pillow up from my lap and buried my face in it, breathing out a big sigh of relief. When I lowered it from my face, Ray had resumed his place on the couch; but he didn’t look any more comfortable than he had before. I peered at him suspiciously.

“There’s more, isn’t there? What is it that you’re not saying?”

“I don’t even know how to start, much less
where
to start.” Ray’s face had a sick pallor to it, like he might be nauseous.

“Do you need a throw-up bowl?” I asked, leaning away from him.

Ray shook his head and looked down at his hands, running them along the tops of his thighs as though he was drying them. “You know those movies where people do stupid things like, oh, writing letters pretending to be someone else?” he asked, his head still down.

I stared at him blankly, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. It seemed like such a random question, one that had no relevance to anything that was going on right now.

And then I realized what he was trying to tell me.

I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. “Ray,” I said quietly.

He looked up quickly at me, like I had slapped him.

“Ray. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I wish I could tell you I didn’t,” he said feebly. “I really wish I could. But I can’t.”

“What were you
thinking
?” I demanded, exploding up from the couch. The pillow I’d been holding on my lap tumbled to the floor.

Ray’s head moved back and forth slowly, ducked low in shame.

“So all those e-mails, the letter, all of it—that was
you
?” I was shouting by now, but I was so angry that I couldn’t seem to keep control on my volume.

When Ray turned his face up to look at me, he seemed afraid that I might hit him.

“Yes.” His reply was barely audible.

“So tell me this, Ray. Does Neil even know that I’m
here
? Does he know that I’ve been living in his house?” My decibel level was borderline unreasonable, I knew. But the situation was unbelievable. And infuriating, to say the least.

Ray opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. He licked his lips nervously and then caught his upper lip between his teeth and started chewing.

Chew away, boy. Chew a hole clear on through. You’re not getting out of this one
, I thought churlishly. It would be painful, which would have been well deserved.

I stood above him, glowering and wondering what this all meant for me. Neil was coming home a whole week early, and I still hadn’t really figured out where I was going to live. The loft apartment was the best possibility I’d seen so far; but there wasn’t anything written in stone with that, even.

I wanted to reach out and strangle Ray.