The Dating Game

Noises from the kitchen overrode the music. Teal strode down the hall and stopped in the doorway.

The four occupants of the kitchen all had their backs turned to him. Danny was leaning against the counter holding an imaginary trumpet, wailing tunelessly. Scott was perched on a stool licking cookie dough from his fingers. A scruffy gray cat was sitting on the counter next to him, washing its oversized paws much too close to the bowl of dough for Teal’s liking. And, finally, a woman with a sheaf of streaked blonde hair held back by a ragged piece of purple ribbon was standing near the stove. She was singing along with Diana Ross, belting out the words with clear enjoyment.

Teal opened his mouth to say something. But before he could the buzzer on the stove went off, adding to the racket. The woman switched it off, swathed her hands in a pair of large mitts and bent to open the oven door.

She was wearing an old pair of denim shorts with a frayed hem, and a blue top that bared her arms and a wide strip of skin above her waist. The shorts must once have been jeans, which had been cut off. Cut off too high, Teal thought with a dry mouth, his eyes glued to the delectable, lightly tanned curves of her thighs, and the taut pull of the fabric as she leaned over to lift a cookie sheet out of the oven. He was suddenly angry beyond belief, irrationally, ridiculously angry, with no idea why.

‘Perfect,’ she said, and turned round to put the cookies on the rack on the counter.

She saw him instantly, gave a shriek of alarm and dropped the metal pan on the counter with a loud clatter. The cat leaped to the floor, taking a glass of juice with it. The glass, not surprisingly, smashed to pieces. The boys swerved in unison, gaping at him with open mouths. And the woman said furiously, ‘Just who do you think you are, walking into my house without even so much as ringing the doorbell?’

Scott was right, Teal thought blankly. Danny’s mother was beautiful. Quite incredibly beautiful, considering that she had a blob of flour on her nose, no make-up, and clothes that could have been bought at a rummage sale. He searched for something to say, he who was rarely at a loss for words, struggling to keep his gaze above the level of her cleavage.

‘Hi, Dad,’ Scott said. ‘Boy, you sure scared the cat.’

‘His name’s Einstein,’ Danny chimed in. ‘Mum says that’s ‘cause he bends time and space.’

Teal took a deep breath and said with a calmness that would have impressed Mr Chief Justice Mersey, ‘He certainly bent the glass—sorry about that. I’m Scott’s father, Mrs Ferris...Teal Carruthers.’

‘Julie Ferris,’ Julie corrected automatically. Ever since Robert had walked out on her that last time, she had disliked the title Mrs. ‘Did you ring the doorbell?’ she asked, more to give herself time to think than because she was interested in the answer.

‘I did. But it couldn’t compete with Diana Ross.’ He added, wondering if her eyes were gray or blue, ‘You should keep the door locked, you know.’

‘I forget,’ she said shortly. ‘I’m used to living in the country.’

Why hadn’t Danny warned her that Scott’s father was so outrageously attractive? The most attractive man she’d ever met. Teal Carruthers wasn’t as classically handsome as Robert, and looked as though he would be more at home in sports clothes than a pin-striped suit; but his eyes were the clear gray of a rain-washed lake, set under smudged lashes as dark and thick as his hair, and his body, carried with a kind of unconscious grace that made her hackles rise, was beautifully proportioned.

‘Do you always let the cat sit on the counter?’ he added. ‘I thought nurses believed in hygiene.’

‘Are you always so critical?’ she snapped back, and with faint dismay realised that the two boys were, of course, listening to every word.

‘If my son’s to spend time in your house, I’d much prefer you to keep the doors locked,’ he replied with an air of formal restraint that added to her irritation. What was the matter with her? She normally liked meeting new people, and certainly she had no desire to alienate the father of her son’s best friend.

‘That makes sense,’ she said grudgingly, straightening the cookie sheet on the rack. Then she reached for some paper towel and knelt to pick up the shards of glass. Luckily they hadn’t pierced the floor covering; she didn’t think that would fall in the category of apple-pie order.

‘I’ll help,’ Scott said.

As she stooped, Teal was presented with a view of delicate shoulderbones and the shadowed valley between full breasts. Her fingers were long and tapered, and the afternoon sunlight was tangled in her hair. He said flatly, ‘We’re late for your dentist appointment, Scott. I tried to phone you here, but the number was busy.’

‘Darn,’ said Julie. ‘I bet Einstein knocked the phone off the hook again.’

Scott’s face fell. ‘I forgot about the dentist.’

‘We’d better go,’ Teal said, adding punctiliously, ‘Thank you for looking after Scott this afternoon, Mrs Ferris. And for bandaging his knees yesterday—a very professional job.’

‘The bill’s in the mail,’ she said flippantly, getting to her feet. Teal Carruthers didn’t look the slightest bit grateful. And he had yet to crack a smile. ‘I prefer to be called Julie,’ she added, and gave him the dazzling smile she employed only rarely, and which tended to reduce strong men to a stuttering silence.

He didn’t even blink an eyelash. ‘Good afternoon,’ he said, not calling her anything. He then nodded at Danny and left the room, Scott in tow. Julie trailed after him into the living-room, turning down the volume on the stereo as she watched a sleek black BMW pull away from the curb. It would be black, she thought. Black went with the man’s rigidly held mouth, his immaculately tailored suit, his air of cold censure. Amazing that he had such an outgoing son as Scott. Truly amazing.

Her bare feet padding on the hardwood floor, she went to lock the front door.

CHAPTER TWO

THE home and school meeting was between six-thirty and eight on Thursday evening. Julie dressed with care in a plain blue linen tunic over a short matching skirt, her hair loose on her shoulders, and went promptly at six-thirty, partly because she had worked the last of her three overnight shifts the night before and needed to go to bed early, partly with a subconscious hope that she would thereby miss Teal Carruthers. Because of the connection between Danny and Scott it was inevitable that she would meet him sometimes. But there was no need to put herself in his path unnecessarily.

There was no sign of him when she got there. After Danny had shown her all his lively and inaccurate renditions of jet planes and African mammals, she chatted with his homeroom teacher—a pleasant young man she had met once before. The principal came over, a rather officious gentleman by the name of Bidwell, then the gym teacher and two school board representatives. It’s happening again, Julie thought with a quiver of inner amusement. I seem to be gathering every man in the room around me.

The gym teacher, with all the subtlety of a ten-ton truck, had just revealed that he was newly divorced, when Julie glanced past his shoulder and saw Teal Carruthers. With another spurt of inner laughter she saw that if she was gathering the men he was like a magnet to the women. He was winning, though; he had six women to her five men.

‘I wonder if I might give you a tour of our new computer-room, Mrs Ferris?’ Mr Bidwell asked, bridling with old-fashioned chivalry.

‘I’m sure Mrs Ferris would be more interested in the soccer facilities,’ the gym teacher interrupted, giving his boss a baleful look.

‘Actually,’ Julie said, ‘I’d like to meet Danny’s music teacher—she’s over there talking to Mr Carruthers. If you’ll excuse me, please?’

Giving them all an impartial smile, she crossed the room to the cluster of women around Teal Carruthers. He was openly watching her approach, his expression unreadable. His lightweight trousers and stylish striped shirt were casual clothes in which he should have looked relaxed; he looked, she thought, about as relaxed as a tiger in a cage.

It was an odd image to use of a man so outwardly civilized. She gave him a cool smile, said, ‘Good evening, Mr Carruthers,’ and waited to see how he would respond.

With uncanny precision he echoed her own words. ‘If you’ll excuse me, please?’ he said, flicking a glance around him. Then he took Julie by the elbow and walked her over to a display of books. ‘I see you have the same problem as I do,’ he said.

‘You were one up on me,’ she answered limpidly.

‘But then you’ve only lived here just over a month.’

‘You mean it’s going to get worse?’ Julie said with faint dismay.

Deliberately he looked her up and down, from the smooth, shining fall of her hair to her fine-boned feet in their pretty shoes. ‘Very definitely, I’d say,’ he drawled.

She was quite astute enough to realize he did not mean the words as a compliment. His fingers were still gripping her elbow, digging into her bare skin with unnecessary strength. ‘I’m not going to run away,’ Julie said, and saw with a primitive thrill of triumph that she had finally managed to disrupt his composure.

With a muttered word of apology Teal dropped his hand to his side, furious with himself for that small betrayal: he hadn’t even realized he was still holding on to her. Standing as close to her as he was, it was no trouble to see why any red-blooded male under the age of ninety would be drawn to her, for besides being beautiful she exuded sensuality from every pore.

Her lips were soft and voluptuous, holding an unspoken promise that the imperious tilt of her cheekbones belied, a contrast that could be seen as both challenge and snare. Her body, curved and graceful, bore the same paradoxical blend of untouchability and beckoning. Although her height and slenderness made her as modern-looking as any model, her smile was both mysterious and ageless.

In the kitchen of her house he had wondered what color her eyes were. He now saw that they were neither gray nor blue, but shifting like smoke from one to the other. Chameleon eyes. Fickle eyes, he thought cynically.

‘You don’t like me very much, do you?’ Julie said levelly.

He raised his brow. ‘You believe in speaking your mind.’

‘Life’s short—it saves time.’

The women who pursued him always seemed to be smiling. Julie Ferris was not smiling. Suddenly exhilarated, Teal said, ‘No—actually, I don’t like you.’

Not wanting him to know that his opinion of her had the power to hurt, Julie chose her words with care. ‘I was worried about Danny adjusting to the city and to a new school when we moved here, and I’m very happy that he and Scott are friends. It’s really immaterial whether you and I like each other—but I wouldn’t want our feelings to get in the way of the boys’ friendship.’

‘I’m quite sure we can keep meetings between us at a minimum, Mrs Ferris,’ Teal said, and watched anger spark her eyes with blue.

‘I certainly have no desire to do otherwise.’

‘Then we understand each other,’ he said. ‘Ah, there’s Scott’s homeroom teacher; I must have a word with her about my son’s appalling spelling. Good evening, Mrs Ferris.’

Julie watched him walk away from her. He was not a stupid man; he knew she didn’t like being called Mrs Ferris. He had been needling her on purpose.

He really didn’t like her.

Her thoughts marched on. In her kitchen she had labeled him as the most attractive man she had ever met. Attractive now seemed a flimsy word to describe him, and civilized a totally meretricious word. Sexy would have been more accurate, she thought shakily. Close up, the man projected raw magnetism simply by breathing; he was dynamite. As clearly as if he were still standing in front of her she could see the narrow, strongly boned features, the unfathomable gray eyes and cleanly carved lips. He had a cleft in his chin. His lashes were as black as soot. Not to mention his body...

Julie wriggled her shoulders under her tunic, trying to relax, and began searching the room for the music teacher. Dynamite has a tendency to blow up in your face, she chided herself. Dynamite is deadly. Besides, you were married to a man with charisma and you know darn well where that got you.

Learn from your mistakes, Julie Ferris. Which means, as Mr Teal Carruthers so succinctly phrased it, that you should keep meetings between you and him to a minimum.

An absolute minimum. Like none.

She caught the music teacher’s eye and, smiling, walked across to meet her. Half an hour later, having assiduously avoided the gym teacher, she left the school with Danny and went home. She went to bed early, and woke up the next morning to the delightful knowledge that she had the next two days off. The sun was shining and the birds were singing...wonderful.

After Danny had gone to school, Julie took her coffee on to the porch and sat in the sun with her feet up. She felt very content. She had done the right thing by moving to the city, she knew that now. It had seemed an immensely difficult decision at the time, to leave the old country house where she had lived throughout her marriage; yet increasingly she had wanted more opportunities for Danny than the tiny local school could offer, and her own job at the county hospital had been in jeopardy because of cut-backs.

But there had been more to it than that. Inwardly she had longed to leave the house where she had been so unhappy, a house that had come to represent Robert’s abandonment and betrayal; and she had craved more life, more people, more excitement than weekly bingo games and church socials.

She loved living in the city. On all counts except for the men she was meeting she had more than succeeded in her aims. Although she supposed there were those who would call her date with Wayne exciting.

She finished her coffee and went to two nurseries, loading her little car with flats of pansies and petunias and snapdragons. Home again, she changed into her oldest clothes and got the tools out of the little shed at the back of the garden. The spades and trowels were so clean she almost felt guilty about getting dirt on them. Almost, she thought happily, loosening the soil in one of the geometric beds and randomly starting to dig holes for the transplants. She disliked formal gardens. Too much control.

An hour later the hose was sprawled on the grass in untidy coils, the snapdragons were haphazardly planted among the box-wood, and a fair bit of mud had transferred itself from the beds to Julie’s person. Singing to herself, she began scattering nasturtium seeds along the edges of the bed.

A man’s voice said over the fence, ‘Good morning, Mrs Ferris.’

The only person other than Teal Carruthers to call her Mrs Ferris was her next-door neighbor, a retired brigadier general called Basil Mellanby who lived alone and would not, she was sure, ever make the slightest attempt to date her. ‘Good morning,’ Julie called cheerily. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day?’

‘Indeed it is.’ He cleared his throat, rather dubiously surveying the results of her labors. ‘I have a measuring stick if you should want to borrow it—just the thing to keep the rows straight.’

His garden was a replica of her landlady’s. ‘I like things messy,’ Julie said apologetically. ‘You don’t think Mrs LeMarchant will mind, do you?’ Mrs LeMarchant was her landlady.

‘I’m sure she won’t,’ the general replied, with more gallantry, Julie suspected, than truth. ‘I had a letter from her today; she’s doing very well in Vermont with her sister.’

And you miss her, thought Julie. ‘How’s her sister getting along since her heart attack?’

The general chatted away for half an hour, then Julie did her best to relieve the rigid straightness of the concrete path to the front door with masses of petunias, watched by Einstein, who also liked digging haphazardly in the garden. Danny came home from school. She made supper and cleaned up the dishes, and when Scott joined them got the two boys to help her wind the hose and hang it on the shed wall. Then she went back in the house to get a drink of juice.

Einstein was crouched on the kitchen floor with a rat under his paws. The rat, she saw with a gasp of pure horror, was not dead.

She backed up slowly, fumbled for the screen door and edged through it. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly close the door.

Danny clattered up the steps. ‘We’re going to play cowboys,’ he said and reached for the door.

‘Don’t go in there,’ Julie faltered. ‘Einstein’s caught a rat.’

‘A rat—wow!’

‘It’s not dead,’ she added, wringing her hands. ‘What will I do?’

If she called the general, he’d probably want to blow the rat’s head off with a shotgun; the general had an immoderate fondness for guns. Or else, she thought numbly, remembering the network of tiny veins in his ruddy cheeks, he might have a heart attack like Mrs LeMarchant’s sister. No, she couldn’t ask the general.

‘Aren’t you going to get your holsters, Danny?’ Scott cried, bouncing up the steps.

‘There’s a rat in the house,’ Danny said with evident relish. ‘Mum says it’s not dead. Einstein caught it.’

‘Jeepers...a real rat?’

‘I can’t go in there,’ Julie muttered. ‘I’m being a lousy role model but I’m terrified of rats.’

Scott let out a war-whoop. ‘I’ll get my dad,’ he said; ‘he’ll fix it.’

‘No, you mustn’t—’

‘Let’s go!’ Danny cried, and the two boys took off down the street. The rest of Julie’s protest died on her lips because there was no one there to hear it. The general would have been better than Teal Carruthers, she thought grimly, and looked down at herself. Her sneakers had holes in them, her knees were coated with mud, and her T-shirt had ‘Handel With Care’ emblazoned across her chest under a portrait of the composer. As for her shorts, they should have been thrown out when she moved.

Inside the house Einstein meowed, a long, piercing howl that almost made her feel sorry for the rat. She shuddered. A half-dead rat on the white kitchen tiles could not by any stretch of the imagination be called apple-pie order.

A black car turned into her driveway, pulling up behind her small green Chevette. The boys erupted from it, and in a more leisurely fashion Teal Carruthers climbed out. He too was wearing shorts, designer shorts with brand-new deck shoes and a T-shirt so close-fitting that her stomach, already unsettled, did an uneasy swoop.

‘What seems to be the problem?’ he drawled.

‘There’s a rat in the kitchen,’ she said, and through the open screen heard Einstein howl again.

‘Sure it’s not a mouse?’

In a flash of insight Julie realized what he was implying. The rat, in his view, was nothing but a trumped-up excuse for her to see him again. She was chasing him. Just like all those other women. In a voice tight with rage she said, ‘I once accidentally locked myself in the basement with two live rats. Trust me, Mr Carruthers—this is no mouse.’

Teal picked up a pair of heavy gloves from the back seat and closed the car door. ‘Two meetings in less than twenty-four hours hardly qualifies as minimal,’ he said, climbing the back steps.

‘I didn’t ask you to come here!’ Julie spat. ‘Our two sons did that. As far as I’m concerned you can go straight home and stay there—I’ll ask the brigadier general to come over; I’m sure he’d be delighted to blast his way through my house with a shotgun.’

‘I’m here now; I might as well have a look,’ Teal said. With a twinge of remorse he saw that she was genuinely pale, her hands shaking with the lightest of tremors. Mouse or rat, she’d had a fright.

She was wearing those goddamned shorts again.

‘Can we come, Dad?’ Scott begged.

‘No, you stay out here...I won’t be long.’

The two boys glued themselves to the screen door, peering through to see what was happening. Julie leaned back against the railing, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, every nerve on edge. She jumped as Einstein emitted an uncouth shriek expressive of extreme displeasure. Two minutes later Teal pushed open the door, the rat dangling from one gloved hand. ‘Have you got a shovel?’ he said. ‘I’ll bury it for you.’

‘I’ll get it,’ Danny said eagerly. ‘Can we have a proper funeral?’

Teal took one look at Julie’s face; she was backed up against the railing as far as she could go, cringing from the dead animal in his hand. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said drily, and started down the steps.

Julie stayed where she was. Her knees were trembling and she had no desire to go inside and face Einstein’s wrath. The last time she and Robert had been together, two rats had gotten in the basement of their house. Robert had laughed at her fears, neglected to set traps and announced that he was divorcing her for another woman. Two days after he had gone back to New York the latch at the top of the basement stairs—which she had twice asked him to mend—had trapped her in the basement. She had been there for four hours, along with the rats, until Danny had come home from school and released her. Even thinking about it made her feel sick.

When Teal came back, she was still standing there. He said tersely, ‘Have you got any brandy?’ She shook her head. ‘Get in the car and we’ll go over to my place—you could do with a good stiff drink.’

He was scarcely bothering to disguise the reluctance in his voice. ‘Oh, no—no, thanks,’ Julie said. ‘I’ll be fine now that I know the rat’s not in the house any more.’

Teal gave an impatient sigh. If he had the slightest sense he’d leave right now. She was a grown woman, and definitely not his responsibility. He heard himself saying, ‘Scott, go over to the house and bring back the brandy, will you? The dark green bottle with the black label. Put it in a paper bag and don’t forget to lock the door again.’

‘C’mon, Danny,’ Scott yelled, throwing his leg over the seat of his bicycle. ‘Let’s pretend we’re ambulance drivers.’

Wailing like banshees, the two boys disappeared from sight. ‘I wish you’d go, too,’ Julie said raggedly. ‘You don’t want to be here any more than I want you here.’

A lot of Teal’s work dealt with the shady areas of half-truths and outright lies; he found Julie Ferris’s honesty oddly refreshing. ‘You look as though you’re either going to faint or be sick,’ he said. ‘Or both. And I have to clean up your kitchen floor. Let’s go inside.’ Hoping it was not obvious how little he wanted to touch her, he took her by the arm. She was trembling very lightly and her skin was cold, and he felt a swift, unexpected surge of compassion. More gently he said, ‘You need to sit down, Julie.’

Tears suddenly flooded her eyes, tears she was too proud to show him. She ducked her head, fighting them back, and made for the door. As she stumbled into the kitchen Einstein pushed between her legs in his haste to get outside. Teal grabbed her arm again. ‘Careful—where in hell’s teeth did you get that cat? It’s got worse manners than an eight-year-old boy.’

‘He got us—he was a stray,’ she said with a watery grin directed at the vicinity of his chest, and sat down hard in the nearest chair. She averted her eyes while Teal wiped the floor with wet paper towel, by which time Scott had returned with a brown paper bag which he plunked on the counter. The brandy was exceedingly expensive. She gulped some down and began to feel better.

Teal topped up her glass and stood up to go. ‘Call me if there’s a replay,’ he said wryly. ‘It makes a change from legal briefs.’

The boys had gone outside. Julie stood up as well, and perhaps it was the brandy that loosened her tongue. ‘Do you think I faked all this just to get you over here?’ she asked. ‘One more woman who’s hot in pursuit?’

‘You don’t miss much, do you?’

‘As a lawyer you deal with people under one kind of stress—as a nurse I deal with them under another. Either way, after a while you get so you can read people.’

Teal looked at her in silence. There was a little color back in her cheeks, and the tears that she had tried to hide from him were gone. He said slowly, ‘It would be very egotistical of me to assume that you’re pursuing me.’