Night Moves (Doc Ford) - By RandyWayne White Page 0,43
did this! He had dredged up some throwaway line I’d used months ago, probably after a few beers: I’m not going to lose another workout partner to the bedroom. Then he had blabbed it to Cressa Arturo, oblivious to the possibility of her storing it away to use later if needed.
I said, “The woman had no right to be in my house, Hannah, let alone confront you. I have no idea why she’d say something so mean.”
“You don’t remember asking her to check on your dog?”
“Absolutely not. I barely know the woman! And she knows even less about me.”
In a very different tone, Hannah said, “Please don’t lie to me, Marion, or I will get mad.”
Once again my brain raced ahead, and I pictured the married mistress moving around my house like she owned the place, already familiar with every drawer and cupboard. So that’s how she had played it. Hannah was the unwelcomed outsider, Cressa a member of the Ford and Tomlinson inner circle. No one in their right mind would believe that Cressa Arturo and I weren’t close after finding her alone in my house.
What to do?
Beyond the porch, fragments of a winter sunset told me it would be dark soon, but the moon, almost full, would be up in an hour. Perfect night, cool and calm, to travel by boat. I’d had a long day, but it was only six-thirty. Plenty of time to retrieve the retriever, say a sharp word to the married mistress, then win back Hannah’s respect over dinner. But at what risk?
The truth was, Hannah Smith scared me—scared the bachelor in me, anyway. She is not the type to share her favors, or even confidences, without first establishing a relationship based on trust. With the few Hannahs that exist in this world, a date was not just a date, secrets were not just secrets, and bed was a hell of a lot more than a recreational trampoline.
No . . . I was walking a fine line. I had already lied to her more than once—most recently about my trip to “Tampa” and the bite wound on my arm. My god, deception wasn’t just a tool in my life, deception was my profession, and I had no right to lead someone like Hannah on. Yet, now this good woman with the solid laugh, and her gift for honesty, was warning me not to lie again and she meant it. Had in fact, I sensed, come very close to hanging up on me.
So I said, “I only met her last night for the first time and she’s Tomlinson’s friend, not mine. And I did tell Tomlinson once that I didn’t like losing workout partners to the bedroom, but it wasn’t about you. He must have mentioned it to her, anyway, and she decided to use it. I don’t know why, Hannah. I’m sorry.”
There was a long silence. Finally, the woman said, “Thanks.”
“I really am,” I told her.
“I can tell . . . or we wouldn’t be talking.”
Yes, she had come damn close to hanging up. For Hannah, there would’ve been no going back. The relief I felt was unexpected. Way out of proportion to saving what, until now, I had considered to be an interesting, peripheral friendship. So I prattled, “I just got out of the shower. I’m out here walking around in a towel, so I skipped the truth to hurry the conversation along. Stupid. I feel like an ass.”
“We’ve all got one. Sooner or later, we show it,” was the reply.
I laughed. Probably overdid it, because Hannah quickly amended, “That didn’t come out right. I wasn’t hinting around about . . . Not that I’m a prude, because I’m not!”
“If you are, who cares?” I said. “How about a run and a short swim tomorrow. Around sunset?”
For some reason, that prompted another thoughtful pause before I heard, “You don’t care, huh? I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Sure it is. Your personal life is none of my business.”
“But I’m not a prude. Just careful when it comes to men—unless I was actually interested in someone.”
“If you say so. Point is, it doesn’t matter. Not to me, it doesn’t.”
“I see,” she replied, then thought about it some more before telling me, “I don’t make friends easily, Marion. Wish I could. That’s one of the things I admire about you. If you don’t mind, though, let’s take a week or two off. I understand the way things are now. By then maybe I’ll feel like running.”