Still Waters. Shirlee McCoyЧитать онлайн книгу.
shrugged in response, the silence in the room stretching out as he surveyed the clean floor and gleaming counters. “You were being a Martha today.”
“What do you mean?”
“A Martha…you know, busy cleaning instead of talking to your guests.”
Tiffany felt her cheeks redden at the veiled criticism and bit back an angry retort. Taking a deep breath, she tried to steer their conversation back to safer ground. “Your parents didn’t seem to mind. And your mom came in to chat with me for a while. She’s really enjoying that quilting class she’s taking.”
“Yeah, and I guess she’s pretty good at it. She said one of the quilts is going to be on display at a regional folk art show. Maybe I can get some time off and we can go see it.”
Tiffany didn’t respond. Instead she reached for a teacup, filled it with water, and placed it in the microwave.
“Is that decaf?”
Startled by the question, Tiffany glanced down at the tea bag she’d taken from the cupboard. “I don’t know. I think so.”
“If you’re not sure, you probably shouldn’t drink it. Caffeine can increase appetite. You’re doing so well on your diet. I’d hate for you to blow it.”
“I think I’ll be fine.” Jerking open the microwave, Tiffany dropped the tea bag into the heated water, turning her back to Brian in the process. The last thing she wanted was a lecture about healthy eating.
“Tiff, something’s bothering you. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”
Tiffany shrugged and turned to face the man she had pinned so many dreams on. “I’m upset about what happened yesterday, Brian. I’m afraid of what it says about us.”
Brian’s brow furrowed, a puzzled expression replacing his concern. “I apologized for leaving you at the diner.”
Tiffany met Brian’s gaze, then looked down into her teacup, watching the water turn brown as she tried to think of words that would express her concern as well as her disappointment. “Yes, you did but that doesn’t change what happened.”
“Okay, I thought we’d settled this last night but I guess we didn’t.” Brian ran a hand through his hair. Tiffany was sure he glanced at his watch while he was at it. “Why don’t we go in the living room and figure out what’s going on here?”
“Fine.” Tiffany led the way down the hall and into the large room she used for company. Two overstuffed chairs and a love seat created a cozy U around the room’s fireplace. Tiffany dropped onto the love seat and took a sip of her tea as Brian made himself comfortable in one of the chairs.
When he spoke he did so with an air of weariness that made Tiffany wish she had waited another day or two before starting this conversation. “Look, I’m not happy about what happened, either. I sat at the diner, alone, waiting for you. I was almost late for my meeting because you took a detour by the lake.”
“I almost drowned, Brian.”
“I know that. And now you’re taking responsibility for a huge mutt and a juvenile delinquent. I don’t understand how you could even consider letting Tom work for you.”
Anger rose swift and vicious, sending blood pumping hard through Tiffany’s veins. She swallowed it down. “Tom is not a delinquent. He’s a boy who’s getting into trouble because he has too much time on his hands. His mother abandoned him years ago, his father drives trucks because their farm is going under. The kid is alone more than he’s with someone. No wonder he’s having problems.”
“Everyone in town knows the boy’s situation. It is sad but it’s not an excuse for poor behavior.”
“You’re right, it isn’t an excuse. It is a reason. Tom needs something constructive to do while his father is away. The job I’m offering him will fill up his time and keep him out of trouble.”
“Or bring the trouble to you. Come on, Tiffany, even you can’t be so naive as to think giving the kid a job is going to change him.”
Anger surged again and this time Tiffany let it have its way. Rising from the couch, she stretched to her full five foot eight inches, and glared at Brian who rose to face her. “I’m a thirty-three-year-old woman who built a computer support business from the ground up. My company is pulling in a profit every year. If I were as stupid and naive as you seem to think I am, I would never have accomplished what I have.”
“I never said you were stupid.”
“Stupid. Naive. It’s all the same when I’m being treated like a child.”
Brian’s eyes widened in surprise, his lithe form tense and stiff with anger. Silence stretched between them, thick as morning fog. Then, as suddenly as the argument had begun, it was over. Tension eased out of Brian’s shoulders and he ran a hand through his short blond hair. “I’m sorry for calling you naive. I’m just concerned.”
Tiffany sighed and shook her head. “But not concerned enough to wait for me at the diner.”
“Tiff…”
“Nothing you say can change the fact that your prayer meeting was more important to you than I was. And if that’s the case, I don’t think we have a future.” Tiffany paused for a moment, gathering the courage to say what she had to. “And, if we don’t have a future, then I don’t see any reason to keep seeing each other.”
“I think yesterday was more stressful for you than either of us realized. You’re exhausted. Why don’t I go home and let you rest? We can talk about this again when you’re more yourself.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Want me to pick you up for evening service?”
“No. I’ll drive my own car.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Thanks, anyway.”
“All right,” Brian hesitated, unsure in a way Tiffany had never seen before. “We’ll talk about this again. Soon.”
“Right.” Tiffany walked Brian to the front door and allowed herself to be pulled into a quick hug.
“We’re signed up to help with the youth volleyball game before church tonight.” Brian opened the door and stepped out into midday heat. “See you then?”
“Yes, but, Brian, I meant what I said.”
Brian, already halfway down the porch steps, turned and nodded. “I know.”
Tiffany watched as he drove away. Then stared out at her overgrown front lawn, wondering why it had taken her a year to realize that her relationship with Brian was no more than a convenience for either of them.
Only when Bandit nudged her hand and whined for attention did Tiffany shake herself from her thoughts. “Feeling lonely, big guy? Me, too. Don’t worry, we can keep each other company while I work.”
Tiffany stepped back into the house, shutting the door on the heat, and on her worries. She and Brian would have their talk eventually, but as far as Tiffany was concerned they had already said everything of importance. Now she had to get to work renovating the Victorian monstrosity she’d purchased with thoughts of children and grandchildren in mind.
Maybe Tiffany would never have the husband and family she desired, but at least she’d have a nice home to live in. Swallowing back the lump that formed in her throat, she grabbed the electric sander and set to work.
Five hours later Tiffany sat in her beat-up Cadillac, listening to the engine sputter and cough. A hand-me-down from her parents, the car had served her well for the past three years, and would continue to do so as long as she remembered to fill the gas tank. A task Tiffany would have performed had she not been running late.
Caught up in the job of stripping