First Kiss Page 5

  Becca’s father took a swig of his Lane’s All-Natural Cream Soda. “I was just asking the boy a question.”

  True, what harm could there be in asking a thirteen-year-old boy his plans for the future? Didn’t all boys my age already have their lives planned out? Come to think of it, just this morning I had almost made the life decision to enter the witness protection program. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  “Becca tells me you like to play soccer,” Becca’s mother interjected, trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction.

  “Jackson is a really good goalkeeper,” Carly threw out. “I can almost never score on him, and I’m a good scorer.”

  Becca stiffened. “Carly and Jess are best friends,” she explained quickly.

  Great. Jackson’s little sister was Carly’s best friend. What a perfect excuse for him to come over and hang out. The four of them were probably going to the park every day and playing soccer while I was busy in my grandmother’s store selling sundries to old ladies.

  I was beginning to wonder if I’d done something to anger the universe. It seemed like every time I started to feel good about my life, some higher power threw down a meat float or a pink paisley pantsuit to squash me in my tracks.

  Please God, give a guy a break.

  “Want to go for a hike?” Becca asked after we’d finished eating.

  “Sure.” A quick jaunt up Mount Everest seemed perfect right about now.

  “Don’t go too far,” her mother said. “We need to head home in about an hour.”

  “Don’t worry,” Becca replied. “We’re just going to walk the loop trail.”

  Her father gave me a slack-jawed disapproving look. One fang glistened in the sunlight.

  Thank goodness he wasn’t the one taking me into the woods.

  “C’mon,” Becca said. “Let’s go.”

  We wandered across a big grassy area to where a trail entered the woods. The farther we got away from her werewolf father and her Jackson-admiring little sister the more I relaxed.

  “Dad said I had to go with you.”

  Carly ran to catch up. Becca grunted.

  “Do you really have to come with us?”

  Carly picked up a stick and dragged it across the ferns on the side of the trail.

  “He said, ‘Stay close and keep an eye on those two.’ Mom said, ‘Not too close,’ whatever that means.”

  She skipped ahead humming merrily, her stick thudding across the wincing ferns in her path.

  “Sorry,” Becca whispered. “My parents can be such a pain.”

  We reached an open area where the trail passed by a small beach. Carly waded in up to her ankles, then spun with her stick sending water splashing around her.

  “Look! I’m a little hurricane!” she shouted.

  Becca and I sat on a log at one end of the beach.

  “She’s right about that,” Becca said. “She is a little hurricane.”

  “Maybe there’s a creature in the lake like the Loch Ness monster,” I suggested. “One that eats the occasional little hurricane for lunch. If we can just lure her a little farther from shore.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Becca replied. “Then I could have my room back.”

  “Your parents might be sad.”

  “Yeah, I suppose. But I could get them a puppy. A puppy would be cuter and more fun to play with and wouldn’t talk all the time.”

  “True. I’d trade my little brother for a puppy any day.”

  Becca picked up a rock and tossed it into the water.

  “Hey, my thirteenth birthday is in August. I was thinking of having a party. Do you think I should have it at my house?”

  “I guess so, or maybe at a park.”

  A smile lit up her face.

  “That’s a great idea. We’ll have it at Sequim Bay State Park! We can make s’mores.”

  “Yeah, those vegetarian s’mores were a hit at my house.”

  “That’s it! We’ll have a picnic, and then a bonfire with s’mores! It’s perfect!”

  It did sound pretty fun. Right up until I got to Ben’s house that night.

  “Dude, you won’t believe the day I’ve had!” Ben announced the moment we sat down near his Xbox.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We kissed!”

  “What do you mean you kissed? I thought she was mad at you.”

  “Yeah, I know. She was.”

  Ben’s grin looked bigger than his head if that was even possible.

  “She called me and wanted to get together and talk so we met at the park near her house. I was pretty nervous about seeing her after what went down at ice cream the other day. But she was really cool about it. She told me her mom’s been giving her a bad time about her grades lately.”

  He looked at me with actual sincerity.

  “Her mom sounds crazy. She thinks Kirsten should get straight As or she won’t get into a good college.”

  “That does seem crazy.”

  “Yeah, she’s super intense about everything Kirsten does. She’s making her take all honors classes next year even though those grades don’t even count toward her high school GPA.”

  I tried to imagine my parents being that worried about my grades. My life would be a nightmare.

  “Whoa. How does Kirsten deal with it?”

  “It’s pretty hard sometimes. She started crying while we were talking.”

  That brought back the memory of Becca on the steps in front of her house. Girls were complicated.

  “So, what did you do?”

  Ben downed the last chips in the bag he was holding, then crushed the bag with one hand.

  “At first, I didn’t know what to do. It was kinda weird, her all teary and stuff. And then I told her about how my parents are always on me about school. I wish sometimes they’d just leave me alone. And she said she wished her mom would just leave her alone. And then—and then we kissed.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I know. It was like we were having this real moment talking about our parents. And then … it just … sort of happened.”

  The zombie warlord tapped out a reminder how Becca and I had had a similar talk only days before. Could things turn all smoochy that easily?

  “Dude, I’m telling you. It was amazing!”

  I didn’t remember asking a follow-up question.

  “It was like—like that level in Death Intruders where we were forced to marry zombie brides and then they kissed us. Remember that?”

  Um, yeah. My character was still collecting bits of his skull blown off in the explosion.

  “Seriously, I thought my head was going to explode. It was so awesome!”

  Since when did having your head explode become awesome?

  “You’re next, dude.”

  Seriously, the last thing I needed after facing Becca’s werewolf father and her sister’s Jackson revelations was to be stressed out about some looming kiss.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “No, seriously. It’s awesome. You just need a special moment to set the mood.”

  “We did plan her birthday party for August.”

  “Perfect!” A wicked gleam lit up his eyes. “If she waits that long.”

  Just what I needed to hear.

  When I got to work on Monday, I found Elsa waiting with eager eyes.

  “How did your date go?” she asked.

  “I had a picnic with her family,” I answered, skillfully avoiding giving away anything of interest.

  “C’mon,” she persisted. “You gotta give me more details than that.”

  So much for skillful avoidance.

  “Well, we went to Lake Crescent and had a picnic by the lodge. Her father asked me what my plans were for the future.”

  Her eager eyes widened into alarm.

  “He asked you about your plans for the future?” She gave an eye roll that would’ve made my mother proud. “That seems a bit premature. You’re thirteen and the two of you just started dating.”


  That’s exactly what I thought, except for the dating part.

  “And her little sister told me that another boy has been coming over.”

  Her alarmed look widened to a whole other level of alarmed.

  “No! That can’t be. She’s too sweet to be two-timing on you.”

  What exactly did Elsa know about Becca? They had only met briefly once. Maybe she had psychic powers. Ben and I used to watch a show about a girl with psychic powers. She could read other people’s thoughts and could even move things with her mind. Ben tried for months to move a pencil with his mind until his parents finally figured out he wasn’t turning in any of his math assignments. Psychic powers are still banned at his house.

  “I don’t know. Jackson is bigger than I am and has better grades. And he never does stupid things around her.”

  She put her hands on her hips.

  “And that’s why he’s wrong for her. She deserves a guy whose palms get sweaty and his words get all mixed up around her. That’s the guy who’s really smitten.”

  Based on her definition, I was definitely smitten.

  The next hour I spent working in the back room. One thing I had learned about a clothing store is that stuff is always coming and going. That means a lot of boxes with a lot of clothes to be opened, sorted, and displayed. At the moment, I had about a dozen boxes and three hours of time. Opening four boxes an hour would be a challenge, but one that I was more than willing to accept.

  “Stu! You’re needed by a customer.”

  The odds of me being needed by a customer seemed slim at best. It was more likely Elsa trying to boost my confidence as a sales consultant. The box cutter went back up on the shelf.

  Near the front door, I found an elderly lady with gray hair and skin so wrinkled she looked like she had just taken the world’s longest bath.

  “Stu, I’d like you to meet Ms. Helperdin. She’s a friend of Diane’s.”

  Ms. Helperdin took my hand.

  “Diane told me you are the one who can help me find a dress for my Charles’s ninetieth birthday party.”

  Why on earth would Diane have said something like that? I couldn’t even get her zipper zipped. The memory sent a shiver up my spine.

  Elsa smiled. “I was just telling Ms. Helperdin what an asset you are to the store. I’ll leave you two to find something amazing.”

  I stood next to Ms. Helperdin and tried not to look as awkward as I felt, though I was pretty sure I looked exactly that awkward. I didn’t know anything about women’s tastes in clothing. And the last thing I wanted to do on a sunny Sequim morning was traipse around the store with a wrinkly little old lady. All I needed was for Ben to pop up from inside a rack of blouses to make my embarrassment complete.

  “Um, what sort of dress are you looking for?” I asked. Not that her answer would in any way help, since the racks of dresses all looked the same to me.

  Ms. Helperdin shuffled farther into the store.

  “My Charles and I met when we were thirteen.”

  That got my attention. They had known each other for seventy-seven years? I couldn’t fathom knowing anyone that long. I’d known Ben for ten years, and that already seemed long enough.

  “Wow, that’s a really long time.”

  She skimmed her hand over a rack of dresses.

  “Yes, we met during World War II. His mother moved to Seattle to work for Boeing making bombers. He showed up in class one day, and I thought he was so handsome.”

  She ran a finger down the sleeve of a black velvet evening gown.

  “We went to our first dance together. I wore a velvet dress, and he wore a suit two sizes too large. We were inseparable that night. And have been ever since.”

  I pulled the dress from the rack. It was much too large for someone so small and frail, but her fingers refused to let go of the fabric.

  “Would you like me to see if I can find one in your size?” I suggested.

  Elsa, who had been watching from the cash register, pulled the same dress in a smaller size from the far side of the circular rack.

  “Try this,” she offered, handing me the dress.

  I escorted Ms. Helperdin to the dressing room.

  “I’m going to need a little help,” Ms. Helperdin said before stepping inside. “I think Elsa will be best now.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as Elsa stepped into the dressing room with Ms. Helperdin and closed the door.

  A few minutes later, the door opened, and Ms. Helperdin emerged. My mouth gaped. She looked thirty years younger. I’m not sure whether it was the dress or the too-pleased smile lighting up her face when she caught me staring at her.

  “Do you think he’ll like it?” she asked.

  I suddenly wondered when I turned ninety if anyone would care if I liked what they were wearing. “Yes, I think so.”

  Ms. Helperdin turned to Elsa.

  “Would you mind helping me take this thing off? And do you have a box I could take it home in? I’d like it to be a surprise.”

  After she changed, I walked her to her car carrying the box with the new dress inside.

  “He wrote me a poem,” she said, easing herself into the driver’s seat. “After the dance.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  She giggled. “It wasn’t a good poem, mind you. He compared me to his bicycle. And a seagull. And a yellow daffodil. I still have it in a drawer.”

  With a final wave she drove off, fond memories and new black dress tucked safely next to her.

  Elsa stood waiting at the door when I returned.

  “Well, that was about the cutest thing ever!” she exclaimed, ushering me inside. “You and Ms. Helperdin shopping for a birthday party dress together. If only I’d gotten it on video.”

  That was about the last thing I wanted. “I didn’t really do anything. She picked out the dress herself.”

  “I know!” Elsa almost shouted. “But you listened to her and cared. And that’s what led her to the right dress. You’re a genius!”

  Say what?

  That night, we made another visit to see my grandmother at the nursing home. She greeted us just as chipper as the last time.

  “I gotta get out of this place,” she stated the moment we entered.

  “Soon enough,” my father soothed.

  She stuck out her chin and slumped back in bed. It was the first time since the accident I had seen her move without wincing.

  “I don’t know how anyone is supposed to sleep in this place with all the moaning and groaning at night. I think it must be haunted.”

  My father held out a roast beef sandwich on rye that my grandmother tore into like a half-starved inmate. The smell of mustard wafted about the room.

  “I’m serious,” she said between mouthfuls. “And whoever is wandering the halls didn’t die peacefully, either.”

  “That’s Mr. Tallsfelder,” a nurse said, entering with a cup of water and a handful of pills. “He moans in his sleep. Don’t worry, he’s really quite fine and still very much alive.”

  The nurse watched to make sure my grandmother swallowed the pills, then breezed back out of the room.

  “I don’t trust that woman,” my grandmother said after the nurse had left. “She’s always so pleasant.”

  My mother patted my grandmother’s hand.

  “I believe they are trained to be pleasant. Would you rather she barked at you?”

  “Frankly, I’d feel more at ease with a drill sergeant for a nurse than a sweet-talking, pill-pushing young woman telling me lies to keep me quiet. Very much alive, is he? Very much alive my—”

  “Well,” my father interrupted. “Your doctor tells me you’re healing so quick that she expects you’ll be going home early. Just hang in there for a couple more days.”

  My grandmother gnawed on the hard-crust remains of her sandwich.

  “Yes, they keep saying that. But I think it’s just a trick to keep me compliant. I bet they told Mr. Tallsfelder the same thing a few years a
go. Look at him now, haunting and moaning every night. They probably keep his ghost locked up so they can still collect fees from his insurance.”

  My father let out a heavy sigh.

  “Well, your hip may be broken, but your imagination is as fit as ever.”

  “Stu made another sale today,” my mother interjected.

  That brought a light to my grandmother’s eyes.

  “Is that right?” she said. “I’m not surprised. You come from a long line of salespeople.”

  What was she talking about? I came from a long line of butchers. Not a lot of sales involved in cutting up slabs of meat into smaller slabs of meat. But then again, I guess my father did run a store and helped customers get what they needed. I’d never really thought about my father being a salesperson before.

  “You’re right about that,” my father agreed. “The Truly name has long been associated with sales and service in this town.”

  “And meat,” I added.

  “Yes, and meat,” my father repeated with a grin. “Amen to that.”

  My grandmother motioned me closer. She sat up straighter and took my hand.

  “Tell me the truth,” she said. “The fashion show is happening in five weeks. Has Elsa worked on any of the arrangements yet?”

  “Um … I’m not really sure. She hasn’t really talked about it much.”

  My grandmother let out a slow sigh. “She’s a very good store manager. But she struggles with follow-through when it comes to event planning. Truth is, I could make the arrangements from here, but if she’s going to take over the store when I retire, she’s got to learn to stand on her own two feet.”

  “So, she really is going to take over the store?” I asked.

  My grandmother held her water glass up in toast.

  “I sure hope so. One thing my hip has shown me is that I’m not getting any younger. I’m getting the itch to do a little traveling and not be hitched to that store seven days a week.”

  She gripped my hand tight.

  “That’s why I need you to make sure she follows through. Can you do that?”

  I wasn’t really sure what my grandmother was asking of me. But how could I say no to her? “Okay.”