followed by Matt.
Matt stopped dead halfway to the counter. Junior Greinwold was peeking out at them from behind a soft drink display.
“Hey, Junior,” Matt said.
Apparently, Junior didn’t spy often. He stammered something, grabbed a couple of plastic two-liter bottles, and bolted.
Kate turned to Matt. “You know Junior? He’s been working at my place. He seems like an okay guy, but I have to say the way he holds on to that blue cooler like it’s made of gold is a little creepy.”
Matt resumed walking toward the display case filled with cheese. “He’s a good guy. Hangs out at the brewery. The cooler’s probably filled with my beer, but nobody really knows for sure. And don’t worry about Marcie, either. People love to talk in this town.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care about the gossip. What I care about is having my job made tougher.”
“Tougher how?”
“Tougher, as in nobody is going to talk trash in front of me about you or Depot Brewing if they think we’re an item.”
“I could give you back your basket,” he offered. “You know-the symbolic handing over of the cauliflower to mark the end of our affair?”
Kate tried not to smile. “Funny. But I’m being serious here. There’s no point in handicapping myself.”
“True,” Matt said. “I should have thought about that.”
They’d arrived at the deli counter, as had Marcie, Junior, and a couple of women Kate had seen at Bagger’s Tavern every now and then. Somehow, she doubted they all craved cold cuts.
Marcie hustled around the counter and nudged aside the teenage boy working there. “I’ll take care of this.” She gave Matt a cheery smile. “What can I get you?”
“Three pounds of Swiss and two of American, sliced medium, please.”
Marcie didn’t move. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you dating anyone, Matt.”
“Work keeps me busy,” he said.
“Then it’s nice to have found someone right there at work, isn’t it?”
Matt was unfazed. “About the cheese?”
“Sammy, three Swiss, two American, medium,” she called to her helper without letting her gaze waver from Matt. “Really, I’ve never seen you look at any woman the way you do at Kate.”
Kate tried to respond but had to pause to catch her breath first. Was that true?
“I am not dating Kate,” Matt said. “I have no plans of dating Kate. She’s an employee and that’s all.”
That might have been true, and even what Kate wanted, but darned if the words didn’t feel harsh. She glanced at her watch and pretended surprise at the time. “Speaking of which, I need to go home and get cleaned up for the dinner shift.” She retrieved her mutant cauliflower and focused on Matt. “I guess I’ll see you at work this evening?”
“No, I have dinner with my family tonight.”
“Good,” she said, and she meant it, too.
Kate needed some time to get her “this is only work” attitude in place. It was that or give in to the spark she refused to feel.
MATT SAT looking at the dining table, worn and scarred from decades of family dinners. Lots of happy memories were contained in thte.tained ose scars and, even though he and his sisters were adults with their own lives and dining room tables, there was something comfortable and special about that particular table that drew them all together for the occasional family meal. So, here he was, women to the left, women to the right, and his dad at the far end.
In just about every way, Matt was a younger mirror of his salt-and-pepper-haired dad. Now, they got along great. When Matt had been in his teen years, however, there had been some friction. It hadn’t been anything bad- just the usual stuff involved when a kid’s testosterone level jumps ahead of his common sense.
When he was a kid, his friends had always told him he was lucky to have the “cool mom” in the neighborhood, and he agreed. He liked that she had bowled in the same Thursday bowling league for the past thirty years, walked three miles every day, and was an eagle eye of an archer. He did, however, feel that pretty soon they were going to have to stage an intervention when it came to her holiday decorations. Every year, for each holiday, she tried to outdo herself. This year, she’d added an assortment of bunny figurines dressed in Halloween costumes parading down the center of the dining table like a zombie army. And last year’s creepy wrought-iron bird figures still glowered at him from the bay window’s sill.
This house had been in the family since it was built in the late 1800s, back when the Culhanes had money enough to build a three-story, seriously ornate Victorian. The locals still called it the Culhane Mansion. Matt found the mansion reference to be overkill, just like his mom’s decorations. He frowned at the bunny in a tiger costume lurking by his water glass.
Matt’s mother leaned forward from her seat to his father’s right. “Is something wrong, Matt?”
Matt opted not to insult the bunnies. “Tough day at work.”
The buzz around the table quieted and Matt knew he’d made a mistake. All his sisters and his mother focused their attention on him. His father pretended to be lost in thought, abandoning Matt to his Inquisitors.
Matt’s sister Maura, nine months pregnant, gave him a concerned look, implying that he lived in a constant state of chaos. Her four-year-old, Petra, sensing something interesting was about to happen, stopped coloring and gave Matt the same look.
“What happened
Petra looked up at her mom and then to Matt. “Yes. What happened now?”
“The walk-in cooler had an issue last night. We lost a lot of food, and I had to scramble to make today work. Did it, though.”
Maura looked relieved. “Now that Dad’s sold the business, you really should have him help out at the brewery. God knows you could use it.”
Matt smiled. His family might be overprotective, but they all looked out for one another. “Got it covered. I added staff last week.”
Petra put down her crayons. Her face was covered with tomato sauce. “Is it a girl or a boy? Boys smell sometew smell imes.”
Matt’s sister Rachel laughed. She was the family’s baby and undisputed princess. She was also the only one in the family with curly hair. Matt’s mother always said it was her mischievious nature that made her hair curl.
She turned to face Matt, her hand resting on her hip. “That’s an excellent question. How does your new employee smell?”
Matt concentrated on chewing his food.
Petra looked around the table. “Boys have a penis and girls have a bagina.”
“Come on, Matt,” Rachel said. “We all want to know if your new staff member has a bagina.”
“Jiminy Cricket. I’m eating pizza. Do we really have to talk about baginas?”
Rachel put her index finger to her lips and studied Matt. “You know what I think?”
She paused for effect. “I’m reading a book about body language right now, and yours is very closed. As if you don’t want to talk about baginas at all.”
Matt put his hands flat on the table. “That’s what I just said. I said it two seconds ago.”
Rachel leaned over to Maura. “Matt’s always been very excitable when it comes to baginas.” Everybody at the table nodded.
“Anyone I know?” Lizzie, his second-youngest sister, asked. She was his best friend as a kid and the tomboy who’d always kept up with him. Her brown hair was still cut short, and her years of playing sports with Matt and his friends had given her an athletic body that looked great in her Keene’s Harbor police uniform. Matt’s friends hadn’t shown a lot of romantic interest in her back then, but they sure did now.
Matt grabbed a slice of pepperoni from the pan. “I don’t think so. She’s new to town. Her name’s Kate Appleton.”
