Mind Games

“I call it patience.”

“Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.”

“I’m happy.” She swung her arms around Maddy and squeezed. “This makes me happy. No! The word is jubilant. This makes me jubilant.”

“I swore I wouldn’t get married, if I did, until I was thirty-five.”

Thea threw out her hands. “You’re talking marriage now? I’m about to go from happy to jubilant to ecstatic!”

“No, well, he is.” Maddy huffed out a breath. “And he’ll win because I love the relentless son of a bitch.”

“He’s handsome,” Thea pointed out. “Smart, kind, funny. And I believe you’ve indicated you’re sexually compatible. Those were all on your list.”

“Yeah, the man checks the boxes. I said I’d think about it after we lived together for a year, but I figure—and I know he figures because he knows me—I’ve got six months max before I cave on that.”

“I think you completed your quota of many boyfriends along the way.”

Maddy smiled a smug smile. “I did that.”

“And you found your handsome, smart, kind, and all the rest, all rolled into Arlo Higgins.”

“Not gonna lie. I did that, too. I’ve got to get back, even though I know I’ll catch him gloating between appointments. And you? You should follow through. I’ve got next Wednesday off,” she said as she walked away. “Let’s do something.”

“Shop for wedding dresses!” Thea called out.

Still walking, Maddy shot up her middle finger.

* * *

She didn’t follow through. She knew how, of course, but felt any follow-through might be inappropriate at best, unwelcome at worst. And she had to consider the clash of her own feelings, those of the giddy teenage girl, and those of the cautious woman.

The girl? That was fantasy and easily dismissed. The woman? The here and now attraction was very real. And yet, he was a man building a new life in a new place with a child at the center.

And she was a woman with baggage, and secrets.

She heard his music almost daily, saw him now and again when she took a walk to clear her head. Her life stayed quiet and busy, as she liked it.

After two solid days of rain, the sort of days that urged her to burrow in and work as if the world didn’t exist outside the game, she shut everything down.

“I see sunshine, Bunk. You go on out in it. I’m going to clean myself up.” Swiveling in the chair to rub the dog, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

“Well, God! I look like something the cat wouldn’t bother to drag in.”

She jogged upstairs to strip off the clothes she’d slept in. A long shower drained away the two days of rain, the work, the grab-and-go food she’d eaten at her workstation.

When she started to question the levels of play, she pushed it away. Let it sit, let it simmer, she told herself as she dressed. She’d take this glorious afternoon off, and run it all through again tomorrow.

Leaving her hair loose to dry in the sun, she started to put on boots for a hike in the hills. Then changed that to sneakers.

Since she hadn’t seen a soul since she’d had lunch and gone shopping with Maddy—no wedding dresses—she knew she needed people again.

Outside, she rounded up Bunk. “Let’s go see Grammie.”

He knew the name, and ran in a happy circle before they started down the lane.

Halfway down, she spotted Ty on his back porch. He played a different guitar—a sleek black electric. Since she heard nothing, she assumed the sound ran through the headphones he wore.

Though Thea took her time, Bunk charged ahead. They’d hit about the usual time for his afternoon visit, one he’d missed on the rainy days. She’d planned to invite Bray to walk to Grammie’s with her, but didn’t see him.