Truly Madly Yours

back in June.”

“Wes said that was you when you walked in.”

Delaney stared into eyes so light they hardly were blue at all. “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Scooter!” There was only one thing scarier than a Finley. A Finley dressed up as a Trekkie.

“Yeah, it’s me. Long time no see.” Scooter’s makeup was cracking on his forehead, and his choice in face color picked up the yellow in his teeth. “You’re lookin‘ good,” he continued, his head nodding like one of those wooden Chinese dolls with the spring necks.

Delaney glanced around the area for someone to rescue her. “Yeah, you too Scooter,” she lied. She didn’t see anyone she recognized and her gaze rested on him once again. “What have you been up to?” she asked, making simple conversation until she could make her escape.

“Me and Wes own a fish farm over in Garden. We bought it from Wes’s old girlfriend after she ran off with a long-haul trucker. We’re going to make a fortune selling catfish.”

Delaney could only stare. “You have a fish farm?”

“Heck yeah. Where do you think all that fresh catfish comes from?”

What fresh catfish? Delaney didn’t recall seeing a lot of catfish at any meat counter in town. “Is there a big demand for that around here?”

“Not yet, but Wes and me figure that with E. coli and that chicken flu, people will start eating butt-loads of fish.” He raised a red Solo cup and took a long pull. “Are you married?”

Usually she hated that question, but she couldn’t get over the obvious fact that Scooter was an even bigger moron than she remembered. “Ah, no. Are you?”

“Divorced twice.”

“Go figure,” she said as she shook her head and shrugged. “See ya around, Scooter.” She moved past him but he followed.

“Wanna beer?”

“No, I’m meeting someone here.”

“Bring her along.”

“It’s not a her.”

“Oh.” He hung back and called after her. “See ya around, Delaney. Maybe I’ll call you sometime.”

His threat might have scared her if she’d been listed in the telephone book. She wove her way through a group dressed as punkers, to the edge of the dance floor. Abraham Lincoln asked her to dance, but she declined. Her head was beginning to pound and she wanted to go home, but she figured she owed it to Steve to tell him she was leaving. She spied him with Cleopatra this time, playing air guitar to Wynonna Judd’s “No One Else on Earth.”

Her eyes scrunched and she glanced away from Steve. He could be so extremely embarrassing sometimes. Her gaze stopped on a familiar couple dressed as a fifties tough and his girlfriend in a poodle skirt. From the perimeter of dancing couples, Delaney watched Louie swing Lisa behind his back then around front again. He pulled her against his chest and dipped her so low her ponytail brushed the ground. Delaney smiled and her gaze moved to the couple closest to Lisa and Louie. There was no mistaking the tall man spinning his niece like a top. As far as Delaney could tell, Nick’s only concession to the holiday was his txapel, his Basque beret. He wore jeans and a tan chambray shirt. Even without a costume, he managed to look like a two-stepping pirate, with that black beret pulled partway down his forehead.

For the first time since she’d moved away, Delaney seriously longed to be a part of a family again. Not a superficial controlling family like hers, but a real family. A family that laughed and danced and loved one another without conditions.

Delaney turned away and ran into Elvis. “Excuse me,” she said and looked up into Tommy Markham’s face complete with fake sideburns.

Tommy glanced from her to the woman at his side. Helen was still dressed as Lady Godiva, still had the crown on her head.

“Hello, Delaney,” she greeted her, a smug smile on her face as if she were superior. It was the same “kiss my ass” smile she’d been giving Delaney since the first grade.

Delaney was too tired to pretend a civility she didn’t feel. Her head pounded, fueled by Helen’s stupid smile. “How did you like my parade entry?”

Helen’s smile fell. “Pathetic, but predictable.”

“Not as pathetic as your mangy wig and cheap crown.” The music stopped as she stepped forward and shoved her face in Helen’s. “And if you ever leave me another threatening note, I’ll shove it up your nose.”

Helen’s brows lowered and she blinked. “You’re mental. I never left you any note.”

“Notes.” Delaney didn’t believe her for one second. “There were two.”

“I don’t think Helen would-”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Delaney interrupted without taking her gaze from her old enemy. “Your stupid notes don’t scare me, Helen. I’m more annoyed than anything else.” She gave one last warning before she walked away, “Stay away from me and anything that belongs to me.” Then she turned and pressed her way through the crowd, dodging and weaving, her head pounding. What if it wasn’t Helen? Impossible. Helen hated her.

She made it as far as the door before Steve caught up with her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, matching his stride to hers.

“Home. I have a headache.”

“Can’t you stay for just a little while?”

“No.”

They walked into the parking lot and stopped by Delaney’s car. “We haven’t danced yet.”

At the moment the mere thought of dancing with a man who played the front of his pants was just too disturbing for her to handle. “I don’t want to dance. I’ve had a long day and I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Want some company?”

Delaney looked into his cute surfer-boy face and chuckled silently. “Nice try.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but her hand on his chest stopped him.

“Okay.” He laughed. “Maybe next time.”

“Good night, Steve,” she said and got into her car. On the way home, Delaney stopped at the Value Rite and bought a king-sized Reese’s, a bottle of Coke, and some vanilla-scented bubble bath. Even after a hot soak, she could be in bed by ten.

I never left you any note. Helen had to be lying. Of course she wouldn’t admit to writing the notes. Not in front of Tommy.

What if she wasn’t lying? For the first time, real fear settled like a bubble in her chest, but she tried to ignore it. Delaney didn’t want to think that the author of the note could be anyone other than her old enemy. Someone she didn’t know.

When she pulled into the parking lot behind her salon, Nick’s Jeep was parked behind his business. His dark silhouette leaned against the back fender, his familiar posture relaxed. The headlights of her Miata cut across his leather jacket as he pushed himself away from the four-wheel drive.

Delaney cut the car’s engine and reached for the plastic grocery bag. “Are you following me?” she asked as she got out of the car and shut the door.

“Of course.”

“Why?” The heels of her stilettoes stirred the gravel as she started toward the stairs.

“Tell me about the notes.” He reached out and grabbed the grocery bag from her hand as she passed.

“Hey, I can carry that,” she protested even as she realized it had been a long time since a man had offered to carry anything for her. Not that Nick had offered, of course.

“Tell me about the notes.”

“How did you know about those?” He followed so close behind her up the steps, she felt his heavier tread beneath the soles of her shoes. “Did Ann Marie tell you?”

“No. I heard your conversation with Helen tonight.”

Delaney wondered how many others had heard it as well. Her breath hung in front of her face as she quickly unlocked her door. Since it would have been a total waste of breath, she didn’t bother to tell Nick he couldn’t come in. “Helen has written me a couple of little notes.” She walked into the kitchen and flipped on the light.

Nick followed, unzipping his jacket and filling the small space with his size and presence. He set her groceries