“Oh, uh, no. We’re not exactly dating.”
“Wait, what?” Splashing came from the bathroom and a second later, Alice peered around the door in her robe. “Do you or do you not have a boyfriend?”
He pointed toward the bathroom. “Get in there and wash your hair.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Good sign.” Like a command from the Cosmic Joker, there was a knock at the door. Jimothy bounced up and hurried toward the entrance to the suite where he let in the room service waiter, signed the tab, and gave him a tip. When he was gone, Jimothy called, “Olly oxen free. Come eat.”
Bare feet padded on the carpet as she came in and sat on the love seat where the rolling table had been set up. She dove on the toast, slathered it with cream cheese and jam, and took a big mouthful.
Jimothy poured tea in two cups, added some honey to hers and cream to both. Settling into the chair opposite the couch, he sipped on the tea and waited for her to remember he hadn’t answered her.
Eggs disappeared from her plate. She’d been hungry. Finally, she settled back with tea and a scone. “Wow, that was good. Okay, give.”
“More tea?” He suppressed his grin.
“Yes, please, and that’s not what I mean, as you well know.”
He poured the tea. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend, just an unrequited love.” Another of those “spoken out loud” declarations made his chest hurt.
“You’re kidding.” She frowned.
“I wouldn’t. And I’m sure I’ll be open to new men in my life at some point, just not yet. Not now.” He tried to make his sigh very soft.
“You’re in love with someone who doesn’t love you back?” The crease between her pretty eyes deepened.
He couldn’t explain, so he nodded.
“That’s hard to believe. I mean, you’re you.”
He sipped his tea and said quietly, “Let’s face it, darling. Me is a lot for some people.”
She leaned forward and just barely saved the tea as she slammed the cup down. “You’re not too much for Mark. He thinks you’re great.”
Jimothy raised one shoulder. “Bad timing.”
“Your heart’s engaged elsewhere.” It wasn’t a question, and it forced him to look at that thumping organ in his own chest. Engaged? Sad to say, definitely yes.
“It doesn’t sound like he deserves you.” She watched him steadily.
“Well then, he doesn’t have me, does he?” He set down his own cup. “Let’s get you in the shower.”
She didn’t move from the couch. “Okay, but first I need to know how the whole thing happened with my dad. How in the hell did you manage to cut his hair and get him to show up at the rehearsal dinner?”
“I didn’t. It was Rick who went to see him and figured out that he was embarrassed to come to the wedding. Or rather that he was afraid he’d embarrass you.”
“Seriously?”
“I think he believed his own propaganda—that he was an old, mean guy who wasn’t good for anything anymore, including taking care of his kids.”
“Wow.”
Jimothy smiled softly. “When your father saw Rick’s hair and beard and realized what he’d done for you, I think he saw a way forward. Rick wasn’t sure if your father would call me, but he did.” Jimothy shrugged. “And the rest is history.”
“What Rick had done for me?” She gazed at Jimothy with her lips slightly parted.
“Yes. Coming out of hiding. Right?”
“You’re saying when I asked Rick to cut his hair, I wasn’t just asking for some locks to be sheared off?”
“Of course. You asked him to change his life. To be more of who he is.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “But I didn’t mean to. Rick’s fine with me, however he wants to be. I just thought—”
He grinned. “I know. You just thought everyone would be more comfortable if Rick didn’t come to the wedding looking like Sasquatch.”
“Yes.” She glanced at him and blinked fast. “Mostly I thought I’d be more comfortable. That really was crappy, wasn’t it?”
“I’ll admit, I don’t think this process has been easy for Rick, but sometimes the best stuff isn’t easy.” He took another mouthful of tea and swallowed his sadness. “He was pretty set in his ways for a twenty-nine-year-old guy.” And he might go right back to those ways the minute the wedding’s over. Jimothy smiled. “Okay, into the shower. We’ve got hair to do and weddings to celebrate.”
Rick pulled into the driveway at Theodore and Snake’s house. Yes, it was Saturday, and they weren’t scheduled to work, but he wanted to be sure the project was on track—or that’s what he’d been telling himself since he got up at his usual 5:00 a.m.
It was a lie.
He knew it was. Maybe even Theodore, who Rick had called to ask if it was okay to come over and check a few things on the work, knew it was a lie. The truth was, Rick felt—useless. On most Saturday’s, he’d have set up overtime on some job or vegged out in front of the TV watching sports he didn’t even like. But now his perfect apartment felt kind of intimidating like he didn’t deserve to live there, and since he had to get dressed for the wedding, he couldn’t do a full overtime. Alice didn’t need him, and no one had asked him to help out at the reception. He was one big loose end.
Pushing the squeaking truck door open as he went, he slid to the ground, then made the familiar walk to the front door. Unlike most days, when he tapped this time, footsteps sounded on the bare floorboards inside. Theodore opened the door.
“Hi.” He grinned, but his eyes were a little inquiring. “Come on in.” He turned and walked toward the kitchen. “I made coffee.”
“I don’t want to intrude on your morning. I just wanted to check on progress on a few things. The guys have been more on their own this week than usual.”
Theodore looked over his shoulder. “No intrusion. Snake and Andy are grocery shopping, so it’s just us.” He walked into the open kitchen and poured from what looked like an espresso maker into two mugs he had waiting. “What do you like in yours? We’ve got most everything. Snake’s a hardcore coffee-meister, but me? I feel coffee is simply a medium in which to float any number of decadent additives.”
Rick laughed. “I used to be like Snake, but then I tasted my first caramel macchiato.”
Theodore’s eyes lit up. “Ah yes, one of my faves.” He pushed forward what looked like a pitcher of hot milk and a squeeze bottle of caramel. “The milk has vanilla in it already.”
“Okay, yum.” Rick added a ton of the vanilla milk and then squished a hefty squeeze of caramel. When he sipped, he smiled. “I’ve got to get these fixings at home. I’m breaking the bank at Starbucks.” He took a big mouthful.
“Today’s your sister’s wedding, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be primping to match your great hair?” He leaned on the plywood counter that would eventually be polished granite.