Finding Susan (14 page)

“That’s mine. See, I should be apologizing to you.” Kate held her hand out, like she was expecting the gum to be produced this instant. Blake put it on a napkin on the table, then sat down on his couch.
 

“Blake,” Kate said.

“I have to be ready to work, Kate. I mean, I have to be on emergency call. You know, in case Joe Bob breaks into anyone else’s house to make them squirrel stew.”

“I see,” Kate said.
 

Blake didn’t look at her - he was too conflicted. If he looked at her now, he’d want to kiss her and hold her again. He didn’t deserve that, and he knew he could only disappoint her. He wasn’t worth it.
 

“I guess I better go home, then. To my porch-less cottage.”

“Yeah, I won’t be able to be there tomorrow. I’ve got to be on patrol. A job to do, you know. It’ll get done, though. Maybe you should give Zeke Meyer a call. I’ll pay for whatever work he does.”

“Blake, you’re not going to get away with this,” Kate said. Blake still didn’t look her way. He put his finger on the back of the photo-frame, and tapped it.
 

“I don’t know what...”

“You break my porch and try to pawn it off on someone else. Nope, you’re going to have to come and fix it yourself. I’m not going to get any mullet-headed Zeke Meyer to do your job for you.”

Finally Blake turned to look at Kate. She was composed, the little half-smirk back on her face. She’d stopped crying, too - why did women always have to do that? It was unfair on their part, all this crying and doing things men couldn’t understand. He was steeling himself against her. Because if he didn’t, he’d want to take her right now and never let her go.
 

“Well, I can’t be there tomorrow. That’s a fact.”

“Then you’ll be there the next time you can.” Kate gathered up the clothes that she had left on the back of one of Blake’s chairs and she started for the door. She stopped, and turned to look at Blake one last time. “Did you fix the shower?”

“Yeah, I got it running. Hot and cold water. Cleaned out the tub, too.”
 

“Great,” she said.
 

***
***
***

Kate closed Blake’s door behind her, and had the immediate desire to slide down on the ground into a tub of jelly. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer, and she was pretty sure she was seeing spots.
 

“Wow,” she said, very quietly. Then, again, “wow.”

It seemed inconceivable - Blake Spanner, that little jerk whose backpack she’d once filled with frogs. He was an old friend.
 
The feelings that he should bring to her were nostalgia and a certain longing for the past. She had a longing now, all right - a deep longing to be with him right now, to stay with him the whole night and make love to him like the world had dropped away and all that was left was the two of them.

Kate made her way to her car, despite the weakness in her legs. Nothing but a good night’s sleep preceded by a succession of cold showers were going to fix this. It was stupid, on the face of it, but she’d fallen in love with Blake. Just a day and a half after she first remembered he existed, and now he might as well be the only thing that existed.
 

And he kissed her right after she’d berated him (quite successfully, in her mind.) That meant one of three things: either she’d hit the nail on the head and he was more appreciative then your average bear of being told what for, that he was some perverse guy who liked to get yelled at, or that he was just trying to shut her up. The first and the last one would be more comfortable for Kate, but whatever.
 

Blake Spanner. As she drove back onto the wooded roads that would lead her to the half-livable domicile she was calling home, she laughed. Blake Spanner. Who’d have thunk it?

***
***
***

Blake was leaning back in his chair, staring at the roof of the squad car, but not really seeing it. He wasn’t seeing anything, just staring out into space. He was parked at the corner right in front of Snorin’ Pete, ostensibly on patrol to keep the good citizens of Whispering Pines safe from evil. So far, he’d watched two cars run through stop signs and hadn’t chased after them or ticketed them. He was a detective once, but here in Whispering Pines the sheriff took on most of those duties, if they were ever needed.
 

Nobody had been murdered in Whispering Pines in nearly fifteen years. There had never been a kidnapping here, and while incidents of domestic abuse weren’t unheard of, it was taken care of quietly and quickly - nobody wanted to make a scene. Blake knew what his problem was, but just yesterday the problem had been his solution. Nothing happened in Whispering Pines. He wasn’t a content police officer maintaining a pleasant status quo. He was a bored man who had run away from challenges because he did not think himself up to them.

This was all Kate’s fault. Until yesterday, he hadn’t thought about anything but his work, and even that was more of an automatic thing. Now his mind was racing - even when he sat away from her last night, and tried to convince himself he didn’t deserve her, his instincts were overriding that concern. He wanted her, in no uncertain terms.
 

It was bad - very bad. He had to fight it. Blake pulled the car off the side of the road, called in to say he was taking the rest of the day off,
 
and started towards Kate’s place. He had to talk to her once and for all, and dismiss all this silliness about the kissing or relationships, before she even had the chance to launch her offensive on that front. Otherwise, everything would be taken too far. Blake was determined to set that straight. As long as he got to see her again while he did it.

Chapter Eight

Blake was halfway up the gangplank when he heard the cursing coming from inside. It put him on alert. Maybe Joe Bob had come back in. He was liable to do the very things he was forbade by the law. Sheriff Duffy thought it was just because he didn’t know any better, but Blake was pretty sure there was an aspect of malice to it.
 

The plank itself, a nice and sturdy pine, was holding in place very well. Maybe he could convince Kate to take it instead of a traditional porch. He had the thought for just a second, before his innate honor slapped him back into shape. He needed to get to work on the porch, and get it done.
 

He walked into the living room, and his first thought was, hey—maybe there was more than one house in this town with a collapsed porch. This didn’t seem to be the same one he’d visited the day before. Not only was it brightly lit, but the cobwebs were all gone from the corners. It was bare, but it had the expectant look of a place being readied for occupation. A few pictures were hung where furniture would not go, and there was a polish and cleanliness on the walls and the stair banister that gave the entire place a different character. Much more This Old House than Disney’s Haunted Mansion.
 

But still, the swearing was coming from the next room, though it was softening in its vehemence and its rapidity, being replaced by a steady “Ow ow ow,” and the voice was definitely Kate’s.
 

“Are you sure that language is appropriate, young lady?” Blake called from the front room.

“I got a splinter!” Kate said, her voice filled with a violent, almost divine rage, like she expected the heavens to shake at the injustice of the small sliver of wood that was now occupying an integral and sensitive place in her right pinky.
 

“Want me to get it out?” Blake said.

“Of course I don’t need you to get it out. I’ll just be a minute,” she said.
 

Blake waited in the doorway to the living room, and he looked around. This place wasn’t nearly in the shape that the front room was, but that made the front all the more impressive. Kate had been here on her hands and knees, sanding down the floor. She’d already cleaned up parts of the walls, though this room was wallpapered and large sections had to be torn out. Those were piled next to the door, and they all smelled like mildew, but it looked like Kate had thrown all the doors and windows wide open in order to air the place out. A nice breeze was blowing right through the house.
 

There was great light coming into most rooms, but once you got into the core of the house, there was only one lamp that was balanced on the back of a large chair. Kate was lost in the shadows, and something about that allured Blake. It was like they had a secret here that could be discussed without guilt in the dark - it hid her from him, depersonalized her. Blake felt like walking to where she was now, grabbing her and kissing her again, just like he had last night. As long as it was dark, he didn’t have to think about who it was, or how this would disrupt his world.
 

Something told him this meeting wasn’t going to go as planned.
 

***
***
***

“So, what do you need?” Kate said. Her finger throbbed. It was about the third splinter she’d gotten that day, and she wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Blake looked at her blankly, like he was lost in some reverie.

“What?” he said.

“Are you here to rebuild the porch, or are you here to arrest me?” Kate said.
 

Blake looked down at himself, and looked surprised to find out he was in uniform.

Kate felt like she should find that cute, but instead she was annoyed. It was different, looking at him now. After last night, when she’d had time to sleep on it, she realized what an absolutely stupid idea it would be to become... “Friendlier” with Blake Spanner. The man proven just last night that he wasn’t ready for any sort of relationship, let alone a commitment. Kate would be closing up her third decade of life in just a couple of year, and dating had taken on a much different caste then it had when she was younger. It wasn’t about going out and finding somebody for a fun evening anymore. She now was starting to view all men through a specific prism: potential mate.
 

Blake had been different before last night. Sure, he was about as handsome as they grew them out here, without the pretty-boy Los Angeles vacancy that seemed to be having a greater influence further northward every year. But after a long time thinking, once the delirium of the kiss had worn off, she realized that everything she had said about him last night was right. He’d closed himself off from the world because of self-pity.
 

Kate didn’t remember much about her father, and she wasn’t sure if she knew what made a good one, but she’d seen enough young men in her line of work screwed up by bad ones. A father that thought more about himself than his children was not destined to be good at that vocation.
 

Too bad
, she thought. He was a good kisser.
 

“Kate, I think we have to talk.”

“About what?” she said. She wasn’t smiling - she knew what he wanted to talk about, and couldn’t think of anything funny about it. It wasn’t easy to reject someone, especially when she really did think of him as a friend.

“I think it would be a big mistake to try and build up any sort of relationship between the two of us,” he said, breaking eye contact the moment he’d finished the sentence. Kate opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words. She was prepared with a dozen arguments against him. She was not ready to agree, for Pete’s sake.
 

For a moment she stammered. Blake looked at her and then away again, starting to look angry.
 

“Geez, I’m such a bastard. Look, I’m sorry if you thought...”

“Shut up,” Kate interrupted him. He was angry, but at himself. Dumb shmuck. “I think you’ve got the right idea, Blake. It’d be ludicrous for us to get together.”

“Right.” He blinked. “Why ludicrous?” he added, looking curious.

“Well... because you live in Whispering Pines, for one thing.”

“Wait a minute.” He couldn’t believe her nerve. “You’re doing an awful lot of work on this place for just being a vacationer. I don’t buy that for one minute. You’re moving back here - you’re not going to convince me otherwise. If you were just here to find Susan, you’d be busting your butt looking for Susan every minute of the day. Instead...” He turned around and pointed with both his arms at the front room. “Look at this place! You did this all in one day?”

“Yeah. Well, I woke up early. I’d hoped to have all the lights on by now.”

“You should call an electrician for that sort of work.”

“You’ve got a pretty good idea of what I should be doing with my time and my money, Blake Spanner. Isn’t there a porch that needs de-destroying around here?” Kate said, her hands on her hips.
 

She didn’t like this conversation. She knew she was going to be living here, that Whispering Pines had become as much a refuge for her as it had for Blake. But she wasn’t ready to admit that yet—especially not to him.

Blake turned back towards Kate, pointing his finger, like he was going to use it to punctuate whatever argument he was going to make. Then he stopped. The ghost of a smile tilted his lips.
 

“If we agree with each other, why are we arguing?”

“Because you’re a fat head?” Kate said with her trademark smirk.
 

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “It could be because you’ve used your feminine wiles to trick me into getting upset, so I’d break something else and save you the time of fixing it.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well...” Blake looked adorably bewildered, and Kate snorted with a burst of laughter.
 

And suddenly, the tension evaporated like summer rain on a hot sidewalk. Kate felt it go and she sighed with relief. They could go on now. Last night’s kiss as an anomaly that they could forget. Life would go on like it had before, just like Blake liked it.
 

And what about her? Did she like it this way? Or was this vague longing she was feeling when she looked at his handsome face laying the foundation for something new?