Not today. Today, she didn’t have to think about it. Today, she and Caleb were going to that dinner and movie, and then indulging in one of his hundred fantasies. Just the two of them—just the here and now.
16
THE SATURDAY AFTER Kent’s surprise visit to Caleb’s trailer, Shay stood at the living room window of her parents’ house and stared out at the rain pelting down on the ground, waiting for her parents’ cab to arrive. They’d insisted her car was too small for their bags, and Caleb’s truck only had room in the back, which wasn’t covered.
Caleb stepped behind her, framing her body with his, his hands on her hips. “You’re vibrating with nerves,” he said, his hands running down her shoulders.
Shay leaned against him, and shut her eyes. “I hate we have to tell them about Kent the minute they walk in the door.”
“I know,” he said. “But we can’t put this off. Not with Kent in this kind of trouble.”
Shay rotated in his arms. “Can’t we turn back the clock and live this past week all over again?” It had been one of the best weeks of her life. They’d managed to put aside the impending troubles with Kent and her parents, and enjoy each other.
They’d even started to get little routines: they knew what time she got home, what time he got home. And Tuesday and Wednesday had been dinner in the living room to watch American Idol. Chinese takeout, Tuesday; pizza, Wednesday. Caleb said Idol was a guilty pleasure so opposite to how he’d spent the last ten years of his life that he couldn’t deny himself. She loved that there were many sides to him. And then there was bedtime, and the countdown through the hundred to-do items.
“There’s always next week,” he promised. “And the next. We just need to get this behind us. Behind Kent.”
“I know,” she agreed. “But maybe we shouldn’t have Kent coming over just yet.” They’d told Kent they were having a welcome-home dinner for his parents, instead of the intervention they had planned. “Not until we know how Mom and Dad are going to react to what’s going on. What if they aren’t supportive of a treatment program?”
“Is it what’s best for Kent?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Can you, as a professional, assure them it’s the right thing for Kent?”
“Yes, but—”
He kissed her to shut her up, a fast, full-mouth kiss. “Then they’ll trust you. I do.”
Shay wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for what you’re doing for Kent.”
“If you want to thank me,” he said, running his hand over her hip and caressing one jean-clad butt cheek, “I’ll give you a reason to thank me tonight. But don’t thank me for taking care of Kent. He’d do the same for me if things were reversed.”
“I should have seen this,” she said. “I’m a trained professional. I mean the signs were there, Caleb. In grade school before you were even around, he’d bet his school lunch money on stupid stuff like what color of shirt a teacher would wear that day, or what grade someone would get on a test. And you know the way he was in high school. He held betting pools on who’d go to prom with who.”
“That betting pool became famous by the time he was a senior,” he said. “I even think a few teachers secretly participated. His senior pot was three grand. That’s big money for a high school kid. And he got two dollars for every bet placed. At that point, I was sure he was going to end up a millionaire. Instead he’s flat broke.”
“And now you’re almost flat broke,” she said, and frowned.
He shrugged off the comment in a way that made her curious. “Aren’t you?” she asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
She gaped. “Good grief, Caleb. How much money did you make on those investments?” She held out her hands. “Not that it matters but—well, how much?”
Tenderness slid into his voice, his expression softening. “Enough for at least one more romantic trip to Italy for two. For you and me, Shay.”
“What?” she whispered, her throat raspy, suddenly dry. Italy? It was a beautiful nightmare. One she’d never recover from if he pulled back again.
The front door opened. “Hello! Hello!”
Shay panicked and instinctively shoved out of Caleb’s arms. Their eyes locked and held, and she watched the affection in his expression bleed away. Shay’s heart stuttered, and she stepped toward him. “Caleb, I didn’t mean to seem… I want to tell them the right way, the right time.” She could see her words hadn’t changed his reaction. “Please. Please don’t be angry.”
“Shay! Caleb!” Her mother’s voice grew closer, until it was in the doorway of the living room. “Oh, my goodness, it’s coming down out there. Caleb, honey, can you help your father? He’s riding the bags up the driveway like boats.”