Dixie opened the door to her house. “Ice tea?”
“Please,” Carol said. They had put Harry back in the kennel.
“You know, Dr. Delphine told me a little about your background, just not the important parts.” Dixie laughed.
“Important parts?” Carol was confused. She was sure the doctor had filled Dixie in on her nightmares and ever-changing endings. “What’s more important than that…day?”
“Oh, lots of things. Like, where did you grow up? How about school? Did you go to college or jump right into the Army?”
Carol smiled and shook her head. “Those are the important things?”
Dixie brought the tray she fixed and set it on the coffee table. She sat across from Carol. “Of course! They’re the most important things ever. Let’s start with something easy. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Um, yes. I have one brother.”
“You’re a lucky devil.”
“Lucky?”
Dixie stared at her with a glass of ice tea halfway to her mouth. “Yes! Only one brother. I have two. And two sisters.”
“I always wanted a larger family. But I can tell from your tone you didn’t particularly like having siblings.”
Dixie frowned. “Don’t get me wrong. My brothers taught me and my sisters things girls don’t usually learn. Like how to conduct yourself during a water fight and eating fast so you didn’t lose out to those very same brothers.”
Carol smiled wryly. “My brother is a very different person than me.”
“How so?”
“My brother likes color over water fights and beating the blonde beauty to the pile of throw pillows during a sale.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know.”
It took a moment but Carol threw back her head and laughed.
Dixie beamed. “You have a wonderful laugh. What’d I say that was so funny?”
Wiping her eyes, Carol realized that was the first belly laugh she’d had in…a long time. “My brother’s not gay.”
Dixie’s expression was horrified. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, no. It’s fine. It was hysterically funny because it’s so normal. Some people think he’s gay but he’s just into color as in wall paint and fabrics, furnishings, framed pictures gracing walls.” She waved a hand indicating the walls around them.
But the walls around them were starkly empty. They were done in rough wood because the building hadn’t been intended as a home. Dixie looked around the room. So did Carol. Their eyes met. And they laughed uproariously, falling on their sides and wiping their eyes of tears of enjoyment.
Gulping for air, Carol sat up. “I didn’t mean to…” She gave in to laughter again.
A brief knock on the door didn’t stop the fun. Mason walked in. Hands on hips and a smile on his face, he asked, “What’s so funny?”
Carol’s laughter dried up and Dixie glanced at her. “Carol thought my house is gay.”
The two women fell over again, laughing like loons.
“Oh. That…is…very funny.”
It took several minutes, and Carol still had a grin on her face, but they greeted Mason as he joined them in the living room. On the couch. Next to Carol. Dixie frowned. Carol didn’t want to start trouble between the siblings so she offered to get him ice tea.
“No trouble.” He leaned over and drank down half of Dixie’s glass.
“That was rude.”
Mason looked at Dixie. “Just wanted to save this pretty lady here all those steps into the kitchen. Then she’d have to stumble around looking for the glasses, the—”
“All right!” Dixie held up a hand.
Carol watched as the two picked at each other, shared family news and generally interacted. She felt safe. She trusted Dixie and Mason was a muscular, serious looking man. Neither of them would let anything happen. He was sitting very close to her.
Mason stretched his arm across the back of the couch leaving his hand behind her left shoulder. Her muscles tensed. He used his hands when he talked so she was very much aware of every movement at her left shoulder. Concentrating on her breathing, she lost track of the conversation.
“Carol?”
She lost her focus and lifted her head. “What?”
“You okay?” Dixie asked.
“You were a thousand miles away, weren’t you?” Mason said. He laid his hand on her shoulder.
Getting to her feet without jumping was hard but, she managed. She saw Dixie get up, followed shortly by Mason. Dixie walked around the table. “Time to go? I’m sorry Mason and I got caught up in family stuff. It’s not even interesting to me sometimes!”
“No, no, it was fine. It is time for me to go, though.” She glanced apologetically at Mason. He frowned. “Sorry.” She slid between the couch and Dixie who chattered as easily as she had with her brother. Carol couldn’t keep up until she heard the name Harry. “What about Harry?”
“I asked if you wanted to take Harry with you tonight. The Casa Blanca Resort & Spa gave you permission to have him with you when it was appropriate.”
She was still afraid she’d make some gargantuan mistake and screw up the precious dog’s training. She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”
Dixie’s smile looked a bit forced. “Okay. Another time.”
They moved toward the door and Carol slipped out as fast as manners allowed. At least she hoped she had. The door closed behind her and her muscles went limp. She made her way to her car on wobbling knees, got in and started the engine. Then she laid her head back and closed her eyes. Several deep, controlled breaths put a little strength back in her spine. Shifting the car into reverse, she glimpsed Mason watching her through the front window. She backed out fast leaving a swirling cloud of dust and sand behind her.
“What’s her story?” Mason asked.
When he got no response except the clattering of glasses in the sink, he turned. Dixie’s face was flushed. “What’s the matter?”
She slapped a soapy cloth into the sink and glared at him. “You can’t just walk in and start hitting on whoever happens to be visiting me. Not everything is in this world to satisfy you, you know!”
“Whoa! I asked a simple question.”
Dixie went back to washing the tea glasses. “Not every question has a simple answer. Carol is in a vulnerable state right now,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Oh. Bad break up?”
“No.”
“Death in the family?”
“No.”
He waited. For naught. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s not my story to tell and I don’t want you asking her.” She turned to him. “Why did you come today? And where are you staying?”
He lifted his hands feebly. “Uh…”
She sighed. “You can have the couch.”
“Um, okay.”
“What?”
“Nothing. The couch will…do.”
“I forgot you’re hurt. It’s your back, isn’t it?”
“It’s not bad.”
“Let me see.” She motioned him over with wet, soapy hands and made a grab for his shirt.
“Hey, wait a minute.” His T-shirt popped off his head and he grimaced.
“Your chest looks okay.”
He took a quick pose. “Well, thanks, little lady.” Before he could plant himself, she turned him around.
“Oh, my God, Mason.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You are such a jerk. How many stitches?”
“Nineteen,” he said through clenched teeth.
“That’s some bruise. It goes from one shoulder to the other and almost down to your waist. Come to think of it, it looks like an avant-garde artist tattoo who is color-blind.”
“Looks worse than it is.”
“You’d say that if you had a compound fracture.”
“Well it’s not a compound fracture. It’s a bruise.”
“And nineteen stitches.” Dixie groaned. “You can have the bed.”
“No, not gonna happen. I’ll be fine on the couch.”
Jamming her hands on her hips, she glowered. “Right up until I dump a pitcher of cold water on you.”
He thought a minute. “I’ll take the bed.”
She relaxed. “Need me to bring in your duffel?”
He scoffed. “The day I need you to carry my luggage is the day I close up shop and buy a wooden rocking chair.”
She grinned. “I thought so.”
Mason followed her into the kitchen. “I can help you in here.”
“Sure.”
They worked like a well-oiled machine mostly because they were the dishwashing champs of the Wallace clan.
“So,” he started. “Tell me about Carol.”
“Argh!”