Alexis 2009
It was fall, the weather beautiful in the city, so we were walking to the grocery store. Two years we’d been married and what an amazing two years they had been. I adored the painting he’d done of me. It hung over our bed and every time I studied it, how he saw me, that hole in my heart was just about gone.
He was wearing a hat I knitted. I wasn’t very creative, outside of my writing. I still couldn’t cook; my last attempt at a cake had not fared any better than my first attempt. My knitting skills were not much better than my baking skills. There were so many missed stitches that there were large holes marring the design. The color was pretty, brown and light green like his eyes, but it was a really ugly hat. Still, he was wearing it along with his leather and shearling jacket that cost a small fortune and his designer jeans, tee and sneakers. He was a walking advertisement for the Sesame Street game, ‘One of these things is not like the others’, but he wore that hat with pride.
“You don’t have to wear the hat, you know?”
He glanced down at me. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s hideous.”
“You made it.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s an eye sore.”
He dragged me closer and draped an arm over my shoulders. “I like my hat and it’s warm.”
We passed a pet store and there was the cutest little cat in the window. He was all gray with the biggest black eyes.
“Greyson, look at him.”
I pulled him to the window then tapped on the glass. The little guy was scared, his body shook, but it didn’t keep him from moving closer.
Glancing at Greyson to gauge his interest in a pet, he was watching me not the cat. “What?”
He touched my cheek, but said nothing.
“You want to lose the hat but don’t have it in you.”
He grinned, but I understood the look. It happened to me too, at the oddest times I was nearly overwhelmed with the reality that we were married. I smiled in understanding then I asked, “What are your thoughts on cats?”
His focus shifted to the cat. “He is cute.”
“We have plenty of room at the apartment.”
“We do.”
We wanted children, but we were enjoying it just being us at the moment. There was time to start a family and getting a cat was a good first step.
“He has to stay out of the studio. Cat claws and canvas don’t mix.”
“Agreed.”
“All right.” He held the door. “Let’s see about bringing the little guy home.”
It wasn’t just the cat we brought home. It was the carrier, the cat bed, food, toys, litter box, litter. The little fella was shy. He only left his carrier for a few minutes at a time, exploring a little farther than his last effort before he darted back into the safety of what was familiar. Greyson and I lay on the floor watching him for hours. He was the cutest little thing.
“Maybe we should leave him alone. He knows where his litter box is and his food. If we stop hovering, maybe he’ll grow more bold,” Greyson suggested.
That seemed logical. “Okay. Let’s watch a scary movie.”
Greyson stood then offered his hand to me. “You pick the movie, I’ll get the popcorn.”
“And the—”
“M&M’s I know. You can’t have popcorn without M&M’s.”
“It’s brilliant and you know it. The heat from the popcorn melts the chocolate, but the candy coating keeps it from getting all over.”
He chuckled and kissed my head. “Find a movie.” He started for the kitchen, but glanced back at me and grinned. “Don’t forget I double as a damn fine blanket.”
My entire body throbbed. Understatement. He was the best fucking blanket ever.
It was several days after we brought the cat home that I learned the meaning of the expression curiosity killed the cat. It was also the same day we settled on his name.
He roamed the house now, was comfortable with us about a day after his homecoming. He didn’t sleep in our room, but I was hopeful he would eventually. He did sit with us, usually curled up in his cat bed, but every once in a while he slept on our laps and we were pathetic because every time he did, we beamed like we’d just been bestowed a great honor. And there were people that said animals were dumb.
Greyson and I had a tradition of having pancakes for dinner at least once a week. These weren’t any old pancakes though. Greyson created art from the pancake batter, anything from a cactus to the Eiffel Tower.
I was sitting at the counter. Greyson was working at the stove.
“Have you ever considered cooking in the nude?” I asked.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Have you?”
“As you know I can’t cook, but I could be your sous chef.”
“My naked sous chef?” His grin was sexy as sin. “We’d starve to death.” He paused as he thought it through. “We’d never get anything done.” He looked wicked when he added, “We’d fuck ourselves to death.”
“What a way to go though.”
Neither of us saw the cat walk into the kitchen. The flour was kept on the bottom shelf of one of the cabinets. It was usually sealed in a canister, but Greyson had yet to seal it. A puff of flour, that resembled a mushroom cloud, rose up next to Greyson. He looked down. “You bugger!”
Glancing over the counter, I was treated to the sight of our cat looking like an uncooked chicken cutlet. His eyes looked particularly dark against the white flour.
“He’s going to track flour throughout the house. We need to give him a bath.” Greyson reached for him. Startled, the cat took off trailing flour in his wake. I watched as he flew past me then turned to Greyson. He was pulling the pancakes from the heat.
“You’re seriously going to chase the cat?”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. We’re not going to catch him.”
“I’m like a ninja when I need to be,” he boasted.
Oh, I was going to enjoy this.
I turned in my chair to watch my husband move like a ninja. I chuckled and wished I had some popcorn. There was no way he was outrunning a cat. He realized it too when the cursing started. The apartment filled with profanity, which was just sexy as hell because of his Irish accent. I listened to the footsteps upstairs, much like the dad from A Christmas Story when listening for Ralphie and Randy to get in bed before he and the Mrs. pulled out the Christmas presents. I walked to the stairs and timed it perfectly. The cat came darting down them. I swooped him up when he hit the bottom. Both the cat and I looked up when Greyson appeared at the top of the staircase. I didn’t want to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. He had more flour on him than the cat.
His eyes narrowed as he started down the steps. “What’s so funny?”
“You. That was a spectacular demonstration of ninja moves. I’ve never seen such agility before. My mind is blown.”
It was the look; I knew that look. “At least I tried, you just sat there.”
“I was waiting for my pancakes.” Though it wasn’t pancakes I wanted now.
I slowly backed away, releasing the cat so he could flee to safety.
“I seem to be in need of a shower.”
And though he was going for menacing, my body throbbed with anticipation. Still, I had to tease him because Greyson was many things, but a ninja was not one of them. “Your hair is white and there is a smear here,” I pointed to my cheek for reference.
“Alexis.”
“Yes, Greyson.”
“Run.”
It wasn’t cursing that filled the house, but laughter.
Greyson
“I’m hungry,” Alexis was curled up against my side. We’d worked up an appetite, first in the shower and then out of it.
“Give me a minute to get feeling back in my legs and I’ll go finish the pancakes.”
“I know what we can call our cat.”
I glanced down at her.
“Buggers.”
I grinned because it was a very fitting name. “I like that.”
She kissed my chest then climbed from bed. I loved the sight of her moving, loved that she was slipping on my tee, didn’t like she was covering up her body because I wasn’t even close to being done with her yet. She headed for the door, but looked back at me and smiled.
“Greyson.”
“Yeah, beautiful.”
“You’re not much of a ninja.”
I jumped from bed, she ran. I was going after her when my cell rang. I almost let it go, but it was Colin.
I answered, but called after her, “You can’t hide, Alexis.” Chuckling, I greeted Colin.
“I’m interrupting.”
I pulled on my jeans. “It’s good. What’s up?”
“I have good news.”
“Yeah? I like good news.”
“They found the writer of those letters.”
A chill moved through me, my legs even went a bit weak as I dropped down onto the edge of the bed. I’d forgotten about those letters, life had been so fucking sweet.
“She lives in San Francisco, still lives with her parents. She works in the fast food industry. By all accounts she’s antisocial and a loner, but she doesn’t have the means to travel. Her parents were shocked to learn of the letters and are taking her in for evaluation.”
“How old is she?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“And they didn’t notice before now that she might need help?”
“My thoughts too. Pressure from the authorities I’m sure has helped open their eyes.”
I hoped so, more for the woman’s sake than mine. “This is great news.” I’d forgotten about the letters and the woman, but closure was good.
“I’ll let you get back to Alexis. Please give her my love.”
“Will do.”
In the kitchen, the coffee was brewing, Buggers was eating and Alexis was whipping up the batter for the pancakes. I walked up behind her and slipped my hands around her waist.
“That was Colin.”
“Yeah. How is he?”
I didn’t answer she waited then looked up.
“They found her.”
It took her a second, but her expression said it all. Relief.
“She lives with her parents. They’re getting her help.”
She placed the bowl down and turned into me, linking her fingers behind my back. “I’m happy she’s getting help and thrilled not to have to worry about her.”
I lowered my head to look her in the eyes. “Were you worried?”
“Yeah, for you.”
I kissed her. Words weren’t needed. I whispered against her mouth, “Pancakes.”
“Pancakes.” She poured us each coffee, setting mine next to me before taking a seat at the counter. “You should make a ninja.”
A smile she wouldn’t see cracked over my face. I wasn’t ever living that down.
Alexis
“How’s wedded bliss?” Paige asked during our weekly phone conversation. I loved the hour we gave ourselves to get caught up. It made the distance between us seem not so long.
“Is it possible to be too happy?”
“No.”
“I can’t stop smiling, Paige. I feel a smile on my face during the oddest times. Walking down the aisle in the grocery store or filling Greyson’s car with gas. It’s ridiculous. It’s been two years and I still feel like a newlywed.”
“Don’t question it, Alexis. Just enjoy the ride.”
“Oh, and they found the woman.”
“Letter lady?”
“Yeah, she’s getting help.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll let Grant know. How’s work?”
“I’m officially lead writer for Happenstance. I’ve had to give up my adventure in the city column because I just don’t have the time.”
“You kept that column for far longer than you intended.”
“True.”
“I love Happenstance. More so now that you are writing for it.”
“You’re biased.”
“True, I’m still right. Any more thoughts on writing another play?”
“I might, but I’m trying a screenplay first. My agent, Adele, has gotten me on a project.”
“For a movie? I’m coming to the premiere.”
I laughed because that was fast. “I haven’t written it yet.”
“When you do.”
“The whole family will have to come. Speaking of the family, how are Grant and the girls?”
“Tara was selected for county orchestra. Mandy’s painting of a clown was selected for the annual school district art show and little Heather is reading at a high school level and she’s only in fifth grade. Grant’s amazing. He’s working on a new bike for himself. He’s never made one for himself, which is bizarre. We are financially sound, so I told him to treat himself.”
“I can’t wait to see it. Please congratulate the girls for me. Now I want to come home so I can hear Tara play and see Mandy’s painting and have Heather read me a bedtime story.”
“The door is always open. I’ve got to feed the family. We’ll talk soon.”
“Please kiss everyone.”
“Will do. You kiss that handsome husband of yours and the twins from me.”
“That will make Dylan’s day.”
She chuckled, “Talk soon, Alexis.”
“Bye.”
I smiled as I dropped the phone on the sofa next to me. I’d finished work for the day so I planned on spending the rest of the afternoon reading Greyson’s mom’s diary. Greyson was in his studio working. I loved that even when we were working we were in the same place.
I curled up on the sofa with Cara’s diary. She had beautiful handwriting. Page after page I read snapshots in time of Greyson’s life. His mother had a sense of humor; she was also a wonderful writer. I laughed, teared up and smiled, seeing in my mind Greyson growing up through her words. There were also passages on her husband. One in particular had me turning the pages.
Stubborn, the man is so stubborn. I want to pull my hair out. Hell, I want to pull his hair out. The Ratcliffe men, I love them but damn when they get an idea in their head. I’ve continued it too. Some poor unsuspecting woman is going to have to deal with that impossible stubbornness. I’m sorry, whoever you are. Ratcliffe men are fiercely loyal, protective, loving, but when they get a bug up their ass they do not yield. Nothing will sway them. They will follow through, even when it makes no logical sense. It is so damn frustrating. The good news, they eventually realize their error, but until they do you have to be prepared to ride out the storm. I apologize now for the hunks of missing hair and dangerously high blood pressure you will no doubt experience with my son. But then you’ve got my son so…you’re welcome.
Greyson dropped down onto the sofa next to me. I hadn’t experienced that stubbornness. Not really. It must have skipped a generation.
“She’s a wonderful writer.”
“Yeah?”
“I was just reading about the stubbornness of the Ratcliffe men. Your mom even gave a warning to your future wife.”
“She did not.”
I handed him the diary. “I haven’t experienced that stubbornness with you, but I’m glad I’ve been given the heads up.”
He looked adorably offended. “I am the definition of accommodating.”
“Really?”
He placed the diary on the table, leaned back and pulled his hands behind his head. “I go with the flow.”
“So if I said get naked.”
He yanked off his shirt.
I grew warm in the most delicious way. “That’s not a true test. You want to get naked.”
He grinned.
“Sing to me.”
“No.”
“Dance, shake that booty just for me.”
“Hell, no.”
“She was right. Stubborn.”
“Because I won’t sing or dance?”
“Yes. I’d sing for you.”
I opened my mouth to do just that and he closed his hand over my face.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
Yanking his arm away, I glared. “Why not?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but…”
My eyes narrowed.
“When you sing it sounds like an animal dying.”
My jaw dropped.
He laughed. He actually laughed at me. “And dancing…have you ever seen a plastic bag stuck on a branch of a tree when it’s windy and it’s flapping this way and that?”
Where was he going with this? “Yes.”
“Those plastic bags have better control over themselves than you do when you dance.”
I wanted to laugh; my chest was shaking from it. I managed a glare instead before I stood with as much dignity as I could muster after that insight.
“Since my form is so repugnant to you, you may have the sofa tonight.”
I got about two feet before I was over his shoulder. He took the stairs two at a time.
“That’s a hell fucking no.”
“And you call yourself accommodating.”
He ran his hand up my leg to my ass and squeezed. “I’ll show you how accommodating I am.”
Lust made my next words a little breathy. “I’ll need several examples.”
He dropped me on the bed and grinned. “My pleasure. See…accommodating.”