Behind the Seams

all fluff. Hidden behind the sparkling eyes and tinkling laugh was a will of steel. Though at one time she’d been the star of the CeeCee Collins Show, when that ended, she set aside her pride and had taken any small part or cameo role she could get. She had even hosted an infomercial. She made it a point to be easy to work with, knowing it would help her get more and hopefully better parts. Her determination had paid off.

I waited a moment longer and made sure Nell was done before I walked in to say good-bye.

“Thank you, Molly. What would I have done without you?” CeeCee got up and walked me to the door. Nell had let the dogs out and they were actively searching my shoes for crumbs. “You’re coming to the show, aren’t you?” CeeCee said, stopping in the foyer.

“Actually, I wasn’t planning to. Adele has her heart set on going, and it’s hard for both of us to be gone from the bookstore at the same time.”

CeeCee’s smile faded, and she grabbed my hands in a frantic manner. “You have to come. You really do. Molly, we can’t have the Hookers in the audience on their own. Who knows what they’ll do.” I knew she was really talking about Adele, and since I’d seen what Adele could do when left on her own, I agreed to work it out so I could go.

I came home with the magic combination of food and animal scents, and my two dogs stuck to me like glue after I walked into my kitchen. Blondie, the strawberry blond terrier mix, and Cosmo, the small black mutt, were joined by Holstein and Cat Woman, the two cats my son had brought with him when he moved back home.

I’d had my share of cats over the years and was always amazed at how distinct each of their personalities were. Holstein was more like a cat-dog. He joined the dogs in following me around the house and couldn’t get enough attention. Cat Woman was more like the generic idea of a cat. She tended to be more aloof except around food. She always sat at my feet and patted my leg with her paw until she got a taste.

I did a double take when I heard hammering coming from the other room. Supposedly I had been living alone since my husband Charlie died, but then my son Samuel lost the place where he was staying and moved back in with the cats. And then there was Barry Greenberg. . . .

I followed the sound to the dining room. The lights were on and the skeleton of a shelving unit was on the floor. Barry set down his hammer and looked up as I walked in. He wiped some sawdust off on his faded jeans and rolled up the sleeve that had come undone on his blue and black plaid flannel shirt. “What do you think?” He gestured toward his work. Last time I’d seen it, it was a pile of wood in the back of his Tahoe. The change was definitely impressive.

“Great,” I said, trying to sound one hundred percent enthusiastic. Really, I was still getting used to the changes around here.

I used to be upset at referring to Barry as my boyfriend. I mean, he’s in his fifties and a homicide detective. To me, the title boyfriend was somewhere along the lines of wearing clothes that were too young for you. Even if you still had the legs to wear a short little skirt, it looked off. I really didn’t have to worry about the boyfriend title anymore anyway. When Barry presented me with the blue velvet box with a diamond ring inside at Christmas, everything changed, including the title he was after.

He’s been talking about us getting married long before the ring, and I know most women would have been thrilled. But it was just that I was still getting over Charlie’s death. And to be honest, there was something more. I’d married young and had never been on my own to try my wings. I was in my late forties and finally getting that chance. I liked it; I really did. I’d started a whole new life with my job at the bookstore and the crochet group.

There were other issues, too. Barry’s job, for one. Forget about making any plans. If he picked up a murder, he could practically disappear for days with barely a call. And then out of nowhere, show up at my door with just a call from his cell phone to let me know he was there. I wasn’t sure how I could deal with a husband who did that.

And there was the communication thing. Charlie had worked in public relations and talked about it extensively. I’d helped out with his business, too, so it was always in the open. But Barry wanted to shut the door on his day when he came over. I understood, but it still felt uncomfortable, as though I was shut out of a large portion of his life. Again, it was one thing if that was going on with someone you were going out with, another if you were married to them.

But I pretty much forgot about those problems when he was around. Even if he wouldn’t talk about it, I found it exciting that his work world was dark and dangerous. I felt safe with him. Maybe it had to do with how he was able to fix anything that broke in my house. It felt like he could take care of things. And, of course, there was this chemical thing when he was around. Barry was hot. What could I say?

I glanced down at my bare left hand. The ring was still in the box in my dresser drawer. I’d thought his getting the ring was a romantic gesture and all, but I still wasn’t ready to be a fiancee.

Barry wasn’t happy with my fence-sitting and dealt with it by ignoring it. He’d begun leaving more of his things at my house and had gone ahead and started making changes, like building this shelving unit to add to what I already had for my yarn. Those shelves were already overflowing and there were grocery bags filled with my stash on the floor again.

Barry rocked back on his heels before standing and slinging his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve been thinking, babe. We should get our own place.” He caught my look of surprise and quickly added. “That is if you decide to say yes.” He said if, but I knew he meant when. Once he’d thrown out that qualifier, he continued on. “It would be better to start fresh, no memories.” He didn’t say it, but I knew he was thinking, And no baggage, either. My son Samuel had just walked in the room and was looking over Barry’s work-in-progress.

He gave Barry a cursory nod and turned all his attention toward me. “I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m filling in at that new restaurant that opened up in the Village Walk.” Samuel was a musician waiting for his big break. In the meantime, he was a barista at a local coffee place and took whatever gigs he could get. He picked up his guitar case and headed toward the door.

Barry made a noise as Samuel left. Something along the lines of a displeased grunt. You didn’t have to be an expert to pick up on the undercurrent of hostility between Barry and Samuel. Barry didn’t think I should have let Samuel move back in when he lost the place he was sharing with a bunch of guys. And Samuel was still getting over his father’s death and wasn’t comfortable with someone taking Charlie’s place in my life.

It put me smack in the middle. I would always be Samuel’s mother and this was still his home when needed. But I could understand Barry’s point of view, too. I was Barry’s whatever—if I didn’t like the term boyfriend, being referred to as a girlfriend really didn’t work for me—and he was part of my life now and had a right not to be treated like an invader.

“There’s Thai takeout in the refrigerator,” Barry said. I’d been too busy helping CeeCee with her demo to do anything more than taste the Apple Bumble Crumble and was definitely hungry. I checked the fridge and saw the line of white cartons. He’d even gotten my favorite pad thai vegetables.

I went back to the dining room to thank him, but he was on his cell phone. I could tell by the serious set of his mouth and his measured tone that it was work. I watched him go from building Barry to detective Barry right before my eyes. He hugged me with one arm as he headed toward the living room. I nuzzled closer, drinking in the scent that was just his.

“I’ve got to get Jeffrey,” Barry said before sticking his head in the doorway of the den. He didn’t have to say anything. As soon as his son saw him, he sighed and started to gather up his homework.

“Yeah, we gotta go. So what else is new?” Jeffrey said in a fourteen-year-old’s version of a world-weary voice.

“He can stay,” I said and gestured for Jeffrey to stop packing up. “He can sleep here and I’ll get him to school.” Barry’s work face disappeared and his eyes softened as he hugged me closer.

“You’re the best. It’s good to have somebody watching my back.” Barry pulled free and headed for the door, almost at a sprint. No matter the long hours, the interrupting calls, Barry loved his job.

This wasn’t the first time Jeffrey had stayed over. I’d taken the bedroom I’d used as an office and moved the computer and desk into the overcrowded crochet room and made a room for Jeffrey.

There was something old school about him. Jeffrey was polite and nice to talk to. He wasn’t hostile or sullen the way some boys his age were. He was still soft around the edges and tried to look more manly by gelling his brown hair into a spiky style. His clothing choice wasn’t typical, either. He wore a lot of suit jackets with jeans. Did I mention that Jeffrey wanted to be an actor, was an actor already, if you counted school plays and that he’d gone on some auditions for commercials. Barry didn’t like the idea, and disliked it even more when Jeffrey started calling