Dear Cupid Read online

  “Okay.” Kate squeezed her friend’s hand, then let it go. “Dear Cupid’s tip of the day is this: Never let the little cracks grow into big ones, or pretty soon your whole house will fall down around you.”

  “A house analogy?” Linda rolled her eyes. “I ask you for advice about my marriage, and you give me a house analogy?”

  “It seemed appropriate.”

  “For Jim, maybe.”

  “For anyone,” Kate insisted. “Fortunately, you and Jim have a pretty strong foundation. Even so, you have to patch the little cracks while they’re still little.”

  “But that’s the problem. I’ve been trying to patch this problem for weeks, as well you know.”

  “Are you telling me Jim still refuses to make love?”

  “Something like that.” Linda’s mouth pursed into a pout. “And before you say one word, be forewarned that your advice about seducing him isn’t working this time. In fact, I think it’s making things worse.”

  “You’re kidding.” Kate frowned. “What does he say, when you talk about it?”

  “Talk about it?” Linda laughed. “You mean, as in get him to open up and be honest about his feelings? Yeah, right.”

  “Linda!” Kate scolded. “I’m serious. You know that talking things over should always be the first course of action.”

  “Trust me, Kate. Jim doesn’t talk about his emotions, not even to me.”

  “Well, he’s got to talk to someone,” Kate insisted. “Sometimes, merely voicing our fears out loud makes them less frightening. For example, you’ve read Dylan’s book A Fly Went By, right?”

  “About a thousand times,” Linda acknowledged.

  “Remember how all those animals are running in terror, the fly from the frog, the frog from the cat, the cat from the dog, and on and on. Only none of them are actually chasing the other, because they’re all too busy trying to escape their own fear. In the end, they all realize they’re running from nothing more than a poor frightened calf who’s gotten a hoof stuck in a bucket. The only reason she’s chasing the others is to search for help.”

  “And your moral of the story would be what?” Linda asked.

  “That real-life fears are no different. Sometimes all we have to do is stop running scared, turn around, and take a good hard look at what it is that has us so terrified. When we do, suddenly those fears don’t seem so bad after all. In fact, sometimes they seem downright silly.”

  The minute the words left Kate’s mouth, she froze in amazement. Was that what she’d been doing with Mike, running scared from some imagined terror? No, the things she feared were all too real, and if she didn’t watch her step, she’d make the same mistake she’d made with Edward, and wind up living through the same gut-wrenching heartache.

  Or would she? Just because Mike loved his job did that mean he was incapable of loving people.

  “You make it sound so easy,” Linda sighed.

  “In theory, it is easy.” Kate offered her a weak smile. “Unfortunately, reality is a great deal more convoluted.”

  “Which is why I don’t want to push Jim to have this talk. I’m not entirely sure I want to hear what he has to say.”

  That startled Kate. “What could he possibly say? That he doesn’t love you and he doesn’t want this baby?”

  Linda nodded as moisture pooled along her lashes, making her eyes look very blue and fragile.

  “Linda.” Kate sighed. “The man adores you, and I know he wants this baby.”

  “If only I could be as sure.” Linda started to say more, but went suddenly still, listening. “What was that noise?”

  Kate listened as well. “I don’t hear anything.” Her heart picked up speed as Linda padded over to the window, with her toes curled upward to protect her wet polish. “Is something out there?”

  “I don’t know ...” Linda peered more intently into the darkness. “For a moment, I thought I heard something.” She shook her head. “Probably just some deer.”

  Kate relaxed. “Yeah, heading down to eat my flowers again, no doubt.”

  Linda laughed as she hobbled back to the couch. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep planting the things.”

  “Because I’m a hopeless optimist?” Kate grabbed another strawberry and dipped it into the chocolate.

  “True,” Linda agreed as she followed suit. “Which just proves Gwen wrong. You are not the cynic she thinks you are.”

  “Well, you know what they say.” Kate bit into the fruit, and cupped her hand beneath her chin to catch the juice. “Behind every cynic is a disillusioned optimist.”

  Linda held her chocolate-covered berry up in a toast. “Well, here’s to all the cynical optimists.”

  “May we all die of chocolate overdose, and enjoy every bite,” Kate added.

  “Hear, hear!”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Shit, that was close,” Jim whispered. “I swear, for a second I thought she’d spotted us.”

  “Is she gone?” Mike asked, trying to peer through the tangle of wild yaupon bushes they’d ducked behind when Linda had appeared in the window a mere ten feet away.

  Jim rose up enough to see inside the house. “Yeah. It’s all clear.”

  Mike reached out and grabbed Jim’s arm before the man could blunder forward and spoil their surprise. “Quietly, this time, okay?”

  “Hey, I’m being quiet,” Jim insisted, even though he’d been the one to stumble and crash through the shrubbery with all the subtlety of an ox.

  Rather than argue, Mike hefted one of the two projection units they’d brought back onto his hip.

  “This way,” Jim called in a loud stage whisper, then hunched forward and dashed across the clearing toward the workshop. Mike followed, cursing the nearly full moon that washed the area in pale blue light. “Watch out for the workbench,” Jim cautioned once they ducked inside.

  “Shit,” Mike swore as his shin banged a hard edge.”I think I just found it.” With his free hand, he felt the bench and considered it as a possible surface for the projector. “Is there an outlet near here?”

  “Yeah. Under the window.” Jim’s dark silhouette moved by a square of light. “Want me to plug it in?”

  “Depends. Where’s this crib of yours?”

  “Over there.”

  “Where?” Mike peered into the darkness, barely making out the shape of a table saw and various other woodworking equipment.

  “Against that far wall,” Jim finally said, apparently realizing that hand gestures didn’t mean spit in the dark.

  “What’s on the wall behind it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Perfect.” Mike smiled. “A nice flat surface is just what we need. Only, let’s clear some of this stuff out of the way and put the crib in the middle of the room.”

  “What for?” Jim asked.

  “Staging, man. You got to have staging.”

  “Oh, right.”

  They set to work, moving equipment out of the way as quickly and quietly as possible. When Mike was satisfied, he led Jim back over to the projector. “I’ve got the film already cued, so when I give the signal, all you have to do is punch this button.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.” Mike grabbed the end of the extension cord Jim had already plugged in. “Now I’ll go outside and man the other projector.”

  “Wait. What’s your signal?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He thought for a moment. “When Linda comes out to see what all the ruckus is about, hopefully she’ll come in this direction, rather than toward me. When she gets close enough to hear you in here, I’ll cut off my projector, you’ll hit yours, and she’ll come the rest of the way inside. From there, you’re on your own.”

  “Right. On my own.” Jim blew out a nervous breath. “Only, what happens if she doesn’t come this way?”

  “Don’t worry,” Mike insisted. “It’ll work.”

  “God, I hope so,” Jim muttered as Mike headed toward the door. “Hey, Mike,” he called, then hesitated when
Mike turned back. “Thanks, man.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Mike nodded, then dashed back across the moonlit clearing to where he’d left the other projector under the yaupon bushes. After plugging it in, he said a little prayer on Jim’s behalf, and punched it on.

  Chapter 23

  A blast of music and colored light filled the living room window.

  “What in the world?” Kate said as she and Linda exchanged startled looks. Together they raced to the window and stared out in disbelief. A cartoon lit the side of the workshop, like an old-fashioned drive-in movie. Forest creatures danced about, singing cheerfully about springtime. Birds swirled and bees buzzed as apple blossoms floated through animated trees like snowflakes.

  Dylan ran out of the spare bedroom wearing the pajamas he kept at Linda’s. “Mom, do you see it? Do you see it?”

  “I’m looking at it now,” Kate answered. “I just don’t know what ‘it’ is.”

  “It’s a cartoon!” His eyes went wide as he joined them at the window. “Can we go outside and watch?”

  Kate glanced at Linda and found her friend holding both hands over her mouth. Blinking madly, Linda turned to her and lowered her hands to reveal a big smile. “Jim.”

  “Jim?” Kate repeated skeptically. “Are you sure?”

  “No. But I plan to find out.” Linda headed for the door.

  “Wait a second,” Kate called. “Don’t you think we should make sure, before we go charging out there?”

  Ignoring her, Linda bolted out the door with Dylan right behind her. Kate quickly followed them into the cool night air. The happy sound of animated creatures celebrating spring assaulted her ears. Dylan moved toward it, mesmerized by the colorful display while Linda looked about, searching for the source, which seemed to be the stand of trees that shielded the cabin from the main house.

  “Jim?” Linda called, moving in that direction.

  The screen went blank, throwing the area into darkness.

  “Linda,” Kate said as she grabbed Dylan’s hand. “I’m not sure we should be out here.”

  The sound and lights resumed, this time from inside the workshop. Linda moved toward it, through the door, leaving Kate the option of following or retreating to the safety of the house.

  “Come on, Mom.” Dylan tugged at her hand, dragging her forward.

  With a sigh, she gave in. The moment she stepped over the threshold, her heart melted. There stood Jim covered in the colored light of another cartoon. Haloing his silhouette on the wall behind him, animated birds sang a sweet lullaby to a baby nestled in the bough of a tree. Jim’s face looked haggard as his eyes pleaded with Linda.

  “I know you think I don’t want this baby,” he said just over the sound of the soft music. “But nothing could be further from the truth. I want that little fella you’re carrying more than anything. Except for you. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you, Linda. So, you have to promise me here and now that you’ll stick around long enough for both of us to get plenty of use out of this.” He nodded toward a crib with an intricately carved headboard and hand-turned rails.

  Linda moved toward it as if in a daze. “This is what you’ve been working on all this time? A baby crib? But ... why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s not finished yet.”

  “I don’t care. Oh, honey, it’s wonderful.” She ran a finger over the delicate carvings. “I love it.” She lifted smiling eyes toward her husband. “Nearly as much as I love you.”

  Kate’s eyes misted as Linda threw her arms around her husband and kissed his cheek. Jim, to her surprise, turned his head enough to bring them lip to lip, something she hadn’t seen him do in weeks. As the kiss deepened, she took her son by the hand. “Come on, Dylan. Show’s over.”

  “No it isn’t.” Dylan strained to see the cartoon on the back wall. “It’s still going. See?”

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to finish watching that show another time.”

  “Ah, Mom!” His feet dragged as he followed her outside, where they nearly ran right into Mike.

  “Oh!” Kate’s heart jumped into her throat. “Mike! What are you doing here?”

  “Directing,” he said as he glanced toward the open door of the workshop. “Did it work?”

  Kate looked from him to the workshop and back again. “You? You’re behind this?”

  “That depends.” He grinned broadly. “If it worked, it was all my idea. If it didn’t, I’m blaming Jim.”

  “Oh, Mike ...” Kate felt something inside her turn soft as she studied him in the faint light from the moon. “I don’t know what to say, other than thank you for helping Jim and Linda. That was really sweet, and very needed.”

  “So, it worked?” he asked.

  “Beautifully.” She smiled at him. “I guess I should have known you were in on it. Who would have the equipment to pull something like this off?”

  “Not to mention a whole cabinet of cartoon reels to pick from,” Mike added.

  “True.”

  “You have cartoons?” Dylan asked.

  “About a gazillion,” Mike confirmed. “The two I brought tonight are ones I actually worked on.”

  “You drew those?” Dylan eyed him with awe.

  “Nah,” Mike said. “I just did some cell painting back when I was young enough and foolish enough to work for slave wages.”

  “What’s cell painting?” Dylan made a face at the unfamiliar term.

  “Well, I tell you what.” Mike squatted down to get eye level with Dylan. “I’ll explain all about how cartoons are made on one condition.”

  “What?” Dylan asked eagerly.

  “That your mother get me a couple aspirin and a glass of water.” He looked up at Kate with a sheepish smile. “My head is killing me.”

  She smiled, wondering how he always slipped past her defenses so easily. “Come on, you two.” She swung her barefooted son up to ride her hip. “We might as well go down to the cabin, since I don’t think Linda and Jim are interested in company right now.”

  “Let me get my projector.” Mike disappeared into the trees, and emerged with a heavy-looking piece of equipment.

  As they made their way down the hill, she looked back in time to see Jim and Linda walking arm in arm toward the house. An odd blend of happiness and envy settled over her. In spite of their recent turmoil, Jim and Linda had the kind of loving relationship that would endure for a lifetime. How was it that she, who helped so many other people find that kind of love, had never achieved it for herself?

  She had Dylan, though, she reminded herself, as her son nestled against her. That was all she needed.

  By the time they reached the cabin, Dylan was nearly asleep. She moved carefully to turn a lamp on in the living area, filling the small space with warm light. “Just give me a minute to put Dylan to bed,” she whispered to Mike. “Then I’ll hunt down some aspirin.”

  “Wait.” Her son lifted his head and scrubbed his eyes. “Mike was gonna tell me how cartoons are made.”

  “Perhaps some other time,” she suggested. “Right now, it’s the middle of the night, and little boys should be in bed.”

  “Ah, Mom.”

  Mike came forward. “Why don’t you let me put him to bed? I’ll tell him all about my wild-and-woolly days as cell painter in lieu of a bedtime story.”

  She started to say no.

  “Please, Mom?” Dylan begged.

  She looked to an equally eager Mike. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Mike set his projector down, and presented his back. “Come on, buddy, climb on board.”

  With a squeal, Dylan leapt from her arms onto Mike’s back, clinging like a little monkey. The sight brought a pang to her heart. This was how things should be, this easy intimacy at the end of the day.

  Struggling against a sense of failure she feared would never fully die, she headed for the kitchen to find the aspirin.

  After the mistakes she’d made, how
could she risk trying again? All the things she felt for Mike, the physical attraction, the excitement of finding someone whose company she enjoyed, the pleasure that lit within her whenever he was near, they were all things she’d felt before.

  It was almost like a tangible object, like a bright shining bubble, filled with the promise of happiness and love eternal. She ached with the temptation to reach out and embrace it as eagerly as Dylan had leapt from her arms onto Mike’s back. But experience had taught her that, for some, the bubble could burst the moment it was touched.

  Which was so unfair! Why did other people find the one thing that eluded her? Was there something wrong with her? She didn’t think so. At least she prayed that wasn’t true. For, somewhere deep inside, she realized she still wanted desperately to love and be loved.

  Something tickled her cheek and she raised a hand to discover a tear quivering at the edge of her jaw. Great, she thought, this was all she needed, for Mike to catch her crying. He’d no doubt think the tears were for him. But they weren’t. They were for ... well, for everything. The safe, solitary life she’d built so carefully for her and Dylan was crumbling around her, and she felt as if a part of her were crumbling right along with it. Swiping at a second tear, she reached for a glass, and carried it to the sink just as the ladder creaked.

  “Well, he fought hard,” Mike said in a hushed tone, “but I think the champ is down for the count.”

  Kate closed her eyes as the mere sound of Mike’s voice made the knot in her throat tighten. Wiping her cheeks one last time, she pasted on a wobbly smile and turned. “I take that to mean Dylan’s asleep?”

  “Dead to the world.”

  “Here’s your aspirin.” She handed them to him without meeting his gaze. If she looked at him, she really would cry.

  “Thanks.” After he’d swallowed the aspirin, she felt him study her face, the way she always felt his gaze. “Look, Kate, about today—”

  “No, please.” She turned away as her control slipped a bit more. “It’s late. We’re both tired. I think we should just let it lie for tonight.”