An Unexpected Match Page 12

  “You won’t even be there to hear me snore.” Win smiled with his look-at-me-aren’t-I-clever charm, but what he meant as a joke drew no laugh.

  Instead Rob gave him a pained look.

  “Okay, okay.” Win waved his hand as if he was erasing his comment. “Bad joke.”

  “But true situation.”

  “I just live backwards because I’m bored and the best stuff is on at night. If I lived with you, I wouldn’t be bored.”

  “You think I’m going to entertain you?”

  “We could go out together. Go clubbing. Fun stuff.”

  Rob shook his head. “I’m not a clubbing kind of guy, Win. I’m boring.”

  “Come on, Rob. I’d be a good roommate. We could make it work.” He sounded desperate.

  “Win, I’ve been at Mom’s. I’ve seen your messes all over the house. I’d be on your back all the time to clean up and you’d be on mine to lighten up.”

  “You can be a bit of a neat freak.” Again the charming smile. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken. But I like neat. I learned it in the Army. And I would resent big time having you mooching off me.”

  “I wouldn’t mooch.” Win seemed offended at the idea.

  “So you would pay for food?”

  Win looked away.

  “Job, Win. Job. Get one and then we’ll talk.” About how Win could afford his own place.

  “You know, for a guy who calls himself a Christian, you’re very selfish.”

  Was he? Maybe, but he wasn’t about to enable Win’s lack of purpose in life. “The answer is still no.”

  “But I can’t stand living with her any longer.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Win glared. “You don’t understand!”

  “You’re right there.”

  “You’re so lucky. You got away. You’ve been all over the world.”

  “In the Army, Win. Hardly a pleasure trip. And let me point this out to you: you could do the same.”

  “The Army? Are you kidding?” He looked horrified. “I’d never survive.”

  “Leaving home doesn’t have to mean the Army, you know.”

  Since he didn’t have a ready answer, Win didn’t say anything.

  By this time they’d circled the complex and were back at Rob’s.

  “I’ve got to go in.” Rob clapped his hands for Charlie who came running. He knew dinner was coming. “See you, Win.”

  “You’re going to make me go back to her?”

  “No. Go get another place if you want. Crash with some friends.” Why did tough love end up making a person feel like a jerk?

  “Come on.” Win smiled his most winsome smile. “You’re not going to kick me to the curb.”

  “Nope. I’m going to tell you to go find a home of your own.” Rob grabbed his backpack from the car. “See you later, Win.”

  “I’m your brother!”

  “That you are. I love you, but you can’t live here.”

  “You just want to keep your life to yourself just like you always kept your friends to yourself.” Bitterness and anger sounded loud and clear. “You’ve probably got friends now that you don’t want me to meet because you’re afraid I’ll win them away.”

  Rob stared in disbelief, not at Win’s spiteful tone—he was used to that—but at what his brother had said. Did he really think that? “I’m trying to keep you away from my friends, am I? And I’m worried they’ll like you more than me.” The idea was absurd. Never mind that he hadn’t done anything remotely social since he’d been home except eat out after class.

  “Even when we were kids,” Win said, his tone pettish, “you never let me play with you and your friends.”

  As Rob remembered it, Win tagged along everywhere, but this wasn’t the time to correct his brother’s revisionist memory.

  “Two things, Win. First, petulance isn’t a good look on you.”

  Win looked even more petulant.

  “Second, you want to meet my friends? I’m more than glad to share. Come with me tomorrow. You’ll have to help one of them move, but she’s cute and you’ll be happy to impress her, I’m sure.”

  Self-pity became wonder. “Really? I can come?”

  Rob looked at his little brother. Didn’t the man have a life? Friends of his own? “I’ll pick you up at seven. Be ready.”

  Chapter 18

  When Rob turned the corner in the rented pickup, he saw Rachel climbing out of her car. She wore a pair of jeans, and he realized it was the first time he’d seen her in pants. And a pretty sight it was with her long legs. He smiled in appreciation.

  Amy was practically dancing down the outside stairs from her second floor apartment, all energy and enthusiasm. She wore jeans too, but somehow on her small frame they were just jeans.

  “Which one’s yours?” Win asked from his place in the passenger seat. Charlie sat at attention between them.

  Rob threw the gear shift into park. “What?”

  “Which girl’s yours?”

  Rob turned to stare at Win and found Charlie regarding him with interest. “Neither.”

  Charlie looked unconvinced.

  Win was unconvinced too. “You think I can’t tell you’re interested in someone? Even Mom’s picked up on it.”

  Rob felt a chill. “Mom thinks I have a girl?”

  “Mom knows you have a girl.”

  “I haven’t said anything. She hasn’t said anything.”

  “Yet.” Win laughed. “Be afraid. Be very afraid.”

  “Believe me, I am. Especially since I don’t have a girl.”

  Win studied Rachel and Amy through the windshield. “It’s the little one who can’t stay still,” Win said.

  Wrong. “Why do you pick her?”

  “Because you always like them perky.”

  Rob ran through the small list of women he’d dated in the last few years. Not a perky among them.

  “Remember Missy the cheerleader?” Win ticked them off on his fingers. “And Brenda the majorette? Perky.”

  “That was high school, Win. I don’t do perky so much these days.” And here was part of the problem with his family. They all saw him as he’d been twelve years ago. He’d been home so little that they had no idea who he was these days.

  “You like the quiet one with the pony tail?”

  “The curly pony tail and the big brown eyes and the terrific figure and the gentle manner.”

  “Whoa!” Win looked at Rob. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “Maybe.” But he was pretty sure Win was right. “But she doesn’t know, so keep your mouth shut.”

  “Do I hear an ‘or else’ tacked on there?”

  “You do.”

  “Then I’ve got to ask, ‘Or else what?’ ”

  Rob threw the truck in park. “Or else I’ll make Mom kick you out.”

  “I’ll move in with you.”

  “Not a chance. I already told you. You’ll be homeless and forced to man up.”

  “See me quaking with fear.” Win laughed. “I dare you to try. I’m her poor traumatized little boy, don’t you know.”

  Rob looked at Win and saw a man he didn’t understand. “How can you let her think that of you? Let everyone think that of you? You’ve let yourself become a cliché for failure to launch.”

  Win shrugged, unfazed. “Free food, free room, free-dom.”

  “I thought you hated it. Last night you certainly seemed to.”

  “It’s a new day, and I got out of the house before she was out of bed. No complaints. No rants. Just me doing my own thing.” With a self-satisfied smile he climbed from the truck.

  Sometimes Rob wondered how he and Win could share the same DNA. They were so different. Back when things went bad with Dad, Rob reacted by proving he could manage on his own in spite of his hurt and bitterness. Win took the opposite tack and fell apart. He clung to their mother and became dependent. Twelve years later neither had changed.

  Twelve years ago he decided to prove he was
n’t his father. He was still trying to prove it. Twelve years ago as a fourteen year old, Win had fallen apart. The teasing and mocking at school, the seeing their father on trial, the visits to the prison had taken a terrible toll on him. But he was a man now and was choosing to stay stunted and dependent. And he was so charming about it, no one seemed to mind.

  As he followed Win to join the girls, Rob worried again about what would become of his brother if he didn’t make some changes—like get a full-time job and his own place. An acquaintance with Jesus wouldn’t hurt either.

  Amy bounced up and down in her excitement, her perkiness on full display. “Two guys! This is so great!”

  Rob had to smile at her. When the semester started, he’d been planning to go to class and leave, nothing more. Get the credits and be closer than ever to the degree. Because of the little live wire and her coffee invitation, his life was richer and—he glanced at Rachel—showed a promise he’d never envisioned.

  “My brother Win,” he introduced.

  “I see the resemblance.” Amy pointed to their blue eyes and jaw line. “Both handsome.”

  Rob watched Rachel’s slow smile of agreement, and her flush when she realized he was looking at her made him feel the morning was already a success.

  Win was clearly taken with Amy. “Will I get arrested for underage stuff if I make a pass at you?”

  Amy looked flattered. “Why don’t you try and we’ll see?”

  “You might end up rejected but you won’t end up in jail,” Rob said. “She’s twenty-five.”

  Win looked as unconvinced as Rob had been the night he and Amy—and Rachel—first met.

  “I’ve seen her driver’s license,” Rob said.

  “I’d have said she was fourteen, tops,” Win said, then quickly added with a warm smile, “No offense intended.”

  Amy grinned back. “None taken. I put up with looking like a kid now because I know I’ll look spectacular in thirty or forty years when all my friends are falling apart.”

  “And we will so resent you,” Rachel said.

  Amy just grinned and clapped her hands. “Time to get going, everyone.”

  “So we’ll get to meet your family and see if the rest of them are as perky as you?” Win walked beside her to the truck.

  “Nope. I picked today because none of them will be home. Better that way.”

  “Your family must be like mine.” Win looked over his shoulder at Rob and grinned.

  “Not a chance,” Amy said. “I win any contest hands down. Besides your brother’s a sweetheart. Right, Rach?”

  Rob looked at Rachel for her reaction and saw only a slight, mysterious smile.

  Amy pulled open the cab door of the pickup. “Rachel and I’ll take the backseat.”

  “You’ll have to,” Rob said. “It’s too small for Win or me.”

  Rob was pleased when he found he could see Rachel whenever he looked in the rearview mirror. Even when the two girls were involved in a conversation that excluded him and Win, he could enjoy her expressive face. It made the long trip seem short.

  They pulled into Amy’s hometown around one, and Rob’s stomach was running on empty. “Where can we eat, Amy?”

  “There’s a café I’ve always wanted to eat at,” she said with a bounce. “Sort of a bucket list thing. This’ll be my one chance.”

  “Are they closing?” Win asked.

  “Nope. It’s in the next block, Rob.” She directed him to a small storefront in the center of the town’s block-long business district.

  They walked into Maisie’s Café and obeyed the sign that said Please Seat Yourself. Amy was practically vibrating with excitement as they slid into a booth. Rob made sure he sat beside Rachel, not a problem since Win homed in on the seat beside Amy.

  “You have no idea how many times I passed this place and wanted to come in.” She looked around with undisguised appreciation. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  It was a small town eatery, like hundreds of others Rob had seen. Obviously Amy didn’t get around much.

  “Looks nice,” Rachel said with her gentle smile. “Smells good.”

  It did that. Rob’s stomach growled in anticipation.

  “Here you go,” said a waitress wearing a shirt reading Maisie’s: nothing but the best. She slid menus onto the table.

  “Thanks, Pam.” Amy smiled.

  Pam looked at her with a frown. “Do I know—Amy? Amy Schreiber?”

  Amy beamed and gave a little bounce. “Yep. It’s me.”

  “Wow! You look…” She paused like she was looking for the best way to say something that could easily come out wrong. “You look great. Like real people, only cuter.”

  Amy glowed as she patted her cropped cut. “Thanks!”

  “I heard you’d left town.”

  “I did. These are my new friends.” She pointed to each in turn as she said, “Rachel, Rob, and Win.”

  “Isn’t this the big weekend for, well, you know.”

  “Exactly. That’s why we’re here now.”

  Pam nodded in understanding. She took their orders and returned in record time with their food and drinks.

  “Yum!” Amy all but licked her lips over the vegetable soup. Rob agreed it was good but hardly worth Amy’s delighted reaction. It probably could have been tasteless and Amy would have thought it five-star. Eating here was somehow symbolic for her, and symbols of a new life should taste good.

  “So does this little town have its own high school?” Win asked her as he watched a quartet of boys eating a mountain of food at the booth across the restaurant.

  “The local kids get bused to a consolidated school.”

  “Long bus ride?”

  “I think so.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I was homeschooled.”

  “There was a time I wished I was homeschooled,” Win said, a shadow passing over his face. “Kids can be pretty cruel.”

  Rob winced. Dad had been arrested in March. June and graduation came well before the trial. Not that the recriminations of those Dad had fleeced weren’t painful enough to read or hear, but he’d escaped the worst of the mess by enlisting the day he graduated. Win hadn’t been so lucky.

  “I guess homeschooling can be good when it’s done well,” Amy said. “In my case, it was just a prolonged excuse for propagandizing my parents’ warped opinions.” She took a big bite of her sandwich and let out a long, “Mmm.”

  Rob studied the perky little blonde. He felt a wave of sympathy for her and the home life she’d been forced to endure. What had her parents been like? Survivalists? Neo-Nazis? Extreme environmentalists? Whatever it was, it had hurt her deeply.

  “Does cyber schooling count as homeschooling?” Rachel asked, relieving the emotion of Amy’s last comment. “That’s how I did high school.”

  Rob pictured an intense girl staring at a computer screen, listening to a lecture by a person miles away or doing her math problems with fierce concentration. “Didn’t you miss group activities—sports, drama, music, stuff like that?”

  “I had plenty of interaction with people, believe me. Five brothers and two sisters.”

  “Eight kids?” Win stared at her. “Nobody has eight kids.”

  “I know lots of people with large families,” she said.

  “Me too,” Amy said. “Our three girls were considered a poor showing.”

  “Well, there’s just the two of us.” Win pointed to himself and Rob. “And the way things turned out, it’s a good thing.”

  Pam the waitress appeared with a hamburger wrapped to go.

  Rob took it. “Thanks. Charlie will appreciate it.”

  “Everything was great, Pam.” Amy grabbed the check and headed for the door. “Better than I ever thought.”

  Charlie, who had been waiting patiently tied to an inoperative parking meter, downed his treat in one gulp. Rob squeezed water from his bottle into the dog’s mouth, and Charlie happily drank although he got as much down his front as down his throa
t.

  Ten minutes later they pulled into the drive of a large gray farmhouse with white trim. The yard was neat, the walk lined with pretty gold and white flowers.

  Rob opened his door and Charlie leaped over him, running full tilt for a cluster of rhododendron at the side of the house. Rob could almost hear the dog’s sigh of relief as he assumed the position. A minute later the animal lowered his leg and tore in circles around the lawn.

  Charlie ran exuberantly straight at Rachel. Rob pictured her being knocked flat on her back, Charlie standing over her like a conquering hero, drooling his victory and pleasure on her face.

  Rachel didn’t flinch. “Hey, big boy.” She held out her hand and the dog came to a quivering stop. She rubbed his ears. With a great sigh he leaned into her leg for a longer scratch. She was the one who conquered.

  Rob watched his dog and the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to refer to as his, and he felt a happiness that was a new sensation to him. Not that he’d been unhappy before Rachel. He’d felt satisfied in the service, useful, and fulfilled. He’d had good friends. This feeling was different. It made him want to smile.

  Rob watched Amy climb slowly from the truck and stand on the walk staring at the house. She shuddered and wrapped her arms about her waist. “I shouldn’t have eaten all those fries.”

  Win walked to her side. “Not a happy homecoming.” Not a question; a statement and made with more compassion than Rob would have expected of his brother.

  “Not a happy homecoming,” she agreed. “It’s harder than I expected. I thought I’d just run in, grab stuff, and go. No emotion but relief that I had escaped.”

  He nodded. “Memories. They get you every time.”

  “Memories.” She shuddered again.

  He threw his arm around her shoulders. “But we’re here with you.”

  “Thanks.” She dropped her head to his shoulder for a minute, then straightened. “Okay. Enough of that. Let’s get this over with.” She strode purposely up the walk.

  Rob studied Win’s back as he followed him to the house. Win had said exactly the right things to Amy, offering her the understanding she needed. He frowned. Maybe Win wasn’t the only one with preconceived opinions.

  Ouch.