The Rescue

Chapter 21

Summer rose in full fury in mid-July, the temperature creeping past the century mark, then finally it began to cool. Toward the end of the month Hurricane Belle threatened the coast of North Carolina near Cape Hatteras before turning out to sea; in early August Hurricane Delilah did the same. Mid-August brought drought conditions; by late August crops were withering in the heat.

September opened with an unseasonal cold front, something that hadn’t happened in twenty years. Jeans were pulled from the bottoms of drawers, light jackets were donned in the early evening hours. A week later another heat wave arrived and the jeans were put away, hopefully for the next couple of months.

Throughout the summer, however, the relationship between Taylor and Denise remained constant. Settled into a routine, they spent most afternoons together-to escape the heat, Taylor’s crew started early in the morning and would finish by two o’clock-and Taylor continued to shuttle Denise to and from her job at the diner, whenever he could. Occasionally they ate dinner at Judy’s house; sometimes Judy came by to baby-sit Kyle again, so they could have some time alone.

During those three months, Denise came to enjoy Edenton more and more. Taylor, of course, kept her busy as her guide, exploring the sights around town, going out in the boat, and heading to the beach. In time Denise came to see Edenton for what it was, a place that operated on its own slow schedule, a culture tied to raising kids and spending Sundays in church, to working the waters and tilling the fertile soil; a place where home still meant something. Denise caught herself gazing as he stood in her kitchen, holding his coffee cup, wondering idly whether he would look the same way to her in the distant future, when his hair had turned to gray.

She looked forward to everything they did; on a warm night toward the end of July, he took her up to Elizabeth City and they went dancing, another first in too many years. He moved her around the floor with surprising grace, waltzing and two-stepping to the drumming bass of a local country band. Women, she couldn’t help but notice, were naturally drawn to him, and occasionally one would smile at him from across the floor and Denise would feel a quick hot pang of jealousy, even though Taylor never seemed to notice. Instead his arm never left her lower back, and he looked at her that night as if she were the only person in the world. Later, while eating cheese sandwiches in bed, Taylor pulled her close as a thunderstorm raged outside the bedroom window. “This,” he confided, “is as good as it gets.”

Kyle, too, blossomed under his attention. Gaining confidence in his speech, he began to talk more frequently, though much of it didn’t make sense. He’d also stopped whispering when running more than a few words together. By late summer he’d learned to hit the ball off the tee consistently, and his ability to throw the ball had improved dramatically. Taylor set up makeshift bases in the front yard, and though he did his best to teach Kyle the rules of the game, it wasn’t something Kyle was interested in at all. He just wanted to have fun.

But as idyllic as everything seemed, there were moments in which Denise sensed an undercurrent of restlessness in Taylor she couldn’t exactly pin down. As he had during their first night together, Taylor would sometimes get that unreadable, almost distant look after they made love. He would hold her and caress her as usual, but she could sense something in him that made her vaguely uncomfortable, something dark and unknowable that made him seem older and more tired than Denise had ever felt. It scared her sometimes, although when daylight came she often berated herself for letting her imagination run away with her.

Toward the end of August Taylor left town to help fight a major fire in the Croatan forest for three days, a dangerous situation made more deadly by the searing August heat. Denise found it difficult to sleep while he was gone. Worrying about him, she called Judy and they spent an hour talking on the phone. Denise followed the coverage of the fire in the newspaper and on television, searching in vain for any glimpse of Taylor. When Taylor finally returned to Edenton, he drove straight to her house. With Ray’s permission, she took the evening off, but Taylor was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch soon after the sun had gone down. She covered him with a blanket, thinking he’d sleep until the morning, but in the middle of the night he crept into her room. Again, he had the shakes, but this time they didn’t stop for hours. Taylor refused to talk about what had happened, and Denise held him in her arms, concerned, until he was finally able to nod off again. Even in his sleep his demons gave him no relief. Twisting and turning, he called out in his sleep, his words incomprehensible, except for the fear she heard in them.

The next morning, sheepish, he apologized. But he offered nothing by way of explanation. He didn’t have to. Somehow she knew it wasn’t simply memories of the fire that were eating him up; it was something else, naked and dark, bubbling to the surface.

Her mother had once told her that there were men who kept secrets bottled up inside and that it spelled trouble for the women who loved them. Denise instinctively knew the truth of her mother’s statement, yet it was hard to reconcile her words with the love she felt for Taylor McAden. She loved the way he smelled; she loved the rough texture of his hands upon her and the wrinkles around his eyes whenever he laughed. She loved the way he stared at her as she got off work, leaning against the truck in the parking lot, one leg crossed over the other. She loved everything about him.

Sometimes she also found herself dreaming of someday walking down the aisle with him. She could deny it, she could ignore it, she could tell herself that neither of them was ready yet. And maybe the last part of that was true. They hadn’t been together very long, and if he asked her tomorrow, she liked to think that she would have the wisdom to say exactly that. Yet . . . she wouldn’t say those words, she admitted to herself in her most brutally candid moments. She would say Yes . . . yes . . . yes.

In her daydreams, she could only hope that Taylor felt the same.

“You seem nervous,” Taylor commented, studying Denise’s reflection in the mirror. He was standing behind her in the bathroom as she put the finishing touches on her makeup.

“I am nervous.”

“But it’s only Mitch and Melissa. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Holding up two different earrings, one to each ear, she debated between the gold hoop and the simple stud.

“For you, maybe. You already know them. I only met them one time, three months ago, and we didn’t talk all that long. What if I make a bad impression?”

“Don’t worry.” Taylor gave her arm a squeeze. “You won’t.”

“But what if I do?”

“They won’t care. You’ll see.”

She put the hoops aside, choosing the studs. She slipped one into each ear.

“Well, it wouldn’t be so nerve-racking if you’d taken me to meet them sooner, you know. You’ve waited an awful long time to start bringing me to meet your friends.”

Taylor held up his hands. “Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one who works six nights a week, and I’m sorry if I want you all to myself on the one night you have off.”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Well, I was beginning to wonder whether you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I assure you that my intentions were purely selfish. I’m greedy when it comes to spending time with you.”

Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Is this something I’m going to have to worry about in the future?”

Taylor shrugged, a sly grin on his face. “It depends if you keep working six nights a week.”

She sighed, finishing with the earrings. “Well, it should be coming to an end fairly soon. I’ve almost saved enough for a car, and then, believe me, I’ll be begging Ray to scale back my shifts.”

Taylor slipped both arms around her, still staring at her in the mirror. “Hey, have I told you how wonderful you look?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I know. But damn, look at you. You’re beautiful.”

After eyeing their reflection in the mirror, she turned to face him.

“Good enough for a barbecue with your friends?”

“You look fantastic,” he said sincerely, “but even if you didn’t, they’d still love you.”

Thirty minutes later Taylor, Denise, and Kyle were walking toward the door when Mitch appeared from around the back of the house, beer in hand.

“Hey, y’all,” he said. “Glad you could make it. The gang’s out back.”

Taylor and Denise followed him through the gate, past the swing set and azalea bushes, before reaching the deck.

Melissa was sitting at the outdoor table, watching her four boys jump in and out of the swimming pool, their noisy cries blending into one jumbled roar punctuated by sharp outbursts. The pool had been installed the summer before, after one too many water moccasins had been spotted near the dock on the river. Nothing like a venomous snake to sour a person on nature’s beauty, Mitch liked to say.

“Hey there,” Melissa called out, getting to her feet. “Thanks for coming.”

Taylor drew Melissa into a bear hug and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You two have met, right?” he said.

“At the festival,” Melissa said easily. “But that was a long time ago, and besides, you met a lot of people that day. How are you doing, Denise?”

“Good, thanks,” she said, still feeling a little nervous.

Mitch motioned to the cooler. “You two want a beer?”

“That sounds great,” Taylor answered. “Would you like one, Denise?”

“Please.”

As Taylor went to fetch the beers, Mitch settled himself at the outdoor table, adjusting the umbrella to keep the sun off them. Melissa made herself comfortable again, followed by Denise. Kyle, wearing a bathing suit and T-shirt, stood shyly by his mother’s side, a towel draped over his shoulders. Melissa leaned toward him.

“Hi, Kyle, how are you?”

Kyle didn’t answer.

“Kyle, say, ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ ” Denise said.

“I’m fine, thanks.” (I’n fine, kenks)

Melissa smiled. “Well, good. Would you like to go get in the pool with the other boys? They’ve been waiting all day for you to show up.”

Kyle looked from Melissa to his mother.

“Do you want to swim?” Denise asked, rephrasing the question.

Kyle nodded excitedly. “Yes.”

“Okay, go ahead. Be careful.”

Denise took his towel as Kyle ambled toward the water.

“Does he need a float?” Melissa asked.

“No, he can swim. I have to keep my eye on him, of course.”

Kyle reached the pool and stepped down, the water up to his knees. He bent over and splashed, as if testing the temperature, before breaking into a wide grin. Denise and Melissa watched him as he waded in.

“How old is he now?”

“He’ll be five in a few months.”

“Oh, so will Jud.” Melissa pointed toward the far end of the pool. “That’s him over there, holding on to the side, by the diving board.”

Denise saw him. Same size as Kyle, buzz haircut. Melissa’s four boys were jumping, splashing, screaming-in short, having themselves a great time.

“All four kids are yours?” Denise asked, amazed.

“Today they are. You let me know if you want to take one home, though. I’ll give you the pick of the litter.”

Denise felt herself relaxing a little. “Are they a handful?”

“They’re boys. They’ve got energy coming out their ears.”

“How old are they?”

“Ten, eight, six, and four.”

“My wife had a plan,” Mitch said, cutting into the conversation while peeling the label from his bottle. “Every other year, on our anniversary, she’d let me sleep with her, whether she wanted me to or not.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him. His conversation skills aren’t meant for civilized people.”

Taylor returned with the beers, opening Denise’s bottle before setting it in front of her. His was already open. “What are y’all talking about?”

“Our sex life,” Mitch said seriously, and this time Melissa punched him in the arm.

“Watch it, buster. We’ve got a guest here. You don’t want to make a bad impression, do you?”

Mitch leaned toward Denise. “I’m not making a bad impression. Am I?”

Denise smiled, deciding that she liked these two immediately. “No.”

“See, I told you, honey,” Mitch said victoriously.

“She’s just saying that because you put her on the spot. Now leave the poor lady alone. We were talking here, having a perfectly nice conversation, until you butted in.”

“Well-”

It was all Mitch could say before Melissa cut him off. “Don’t push it.”

“But-”

“Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

Mitch’s eyebrows went up and down. “Is that a promise?”

She gave him the once-over. “It is now.”

Everyone at the table laughed, and Mitch leaned toward his wife, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, looking at her like a puppy who’d messed on the rug.

“Not good enough,” she said, feigning haughtiness.

“What if I do the dishes later?”

“We’re eating off paper plates tonight.”

“I know. That’s why I offered.”

“Why don’t you two leave us alone so we can talk? Go clean the grill or something.”

“I just got here,” Taylor complained. “Why do I have to go?”

“Because the grill is really dirty.”

“It is?” Mitch asked.

“Go on,” Melissa said as if shooing a fly from her plate. “Leave us alone so we can do some girl-talk.”

Mitch turned toward his friend. “I don’t think we’re wanted, Taylor.”

“I think you’re right, Mitch.”

Melissa whispered conspiratorially, “These two should have been rocket scientists. Nothing gets by them.”

Mitch’s mouth was playfully agape. “I think she just insulted us, Taylor,” he said.

“I think you’re right.”

“See what I mean?” Melissa said, nodding as if her point had been proven. “Rocket scientists.”

“C’mon, Taylor,” Mitch said, pretending to be offended. “We don’t need to put up with this. We’re better than that.”

“Good. Go be better while you clean the grill.”

Mitch and Taylor rose from the table, leaving Denise and Melissa alone. Denise was still laughing as they headed toward the grill.

“Now how long have you two been married?”

“Twelve years. It only seems like twenty.”

Melissa winked, and all Denise could do was wonder why it suddenly seemed as if she’d known her forever.

“So how did you two meet?” Denise asked.

“At a party in college. The first time I ever saw him, Mitch was balancing a bottle of beer on his forehead while trying to cross the room. If he could do it without spilling it, he’d win fifty bucks.”

“Did he make it?”

“No, he ended up soaked from head to toe. But it was obvious he didn’t take himself too seriously. And after some of the other guys I dated, I guess that’s what I was looking for. We started dating, and a couple of years later, we got married.”

She looked toward her husband, obvious affection in her eyes.

“He’s a good guy. I think I’ll keep him.”

“So how was it down in the Croatan?”

When Joe had asked for volunteers to fight the forest fire a few weeks earlier, only Taylor had raised his hand. Mitch had simply shaken his head when Taylor had asked him to come along.

What Taylor didn’t know was that Mitch had learned exactly what had happened. Joe had called Mitch in confidence, telling him that Taylor had nearly been killed when the fire suddenly closed in around him. Had it not been for a slight shift in the wind, which cleared enough smoke for Taylor to find his way out, he would have been dead. His latest brush with death hadn’t surprised Mitch at all.

Taylor took a drink of his beer, his eyes clouding with the memory.

“Pretty hairy at times-you know how those fires are. But luckily no one got hurt.”

Yes, lucky. Again.

“Nothing else?”

“Not really,” he said, downplaying any hint of danger. “But you should have come along. We could have used more men out there.”

Mitch shook his head as he reached for the grate on the grill. He began to work the scraper back and forth.

“No, that’s for you young guys. I’m getting too old for things like that.”

“I’m older than you are, Mitch.”

“Sure, if you think of it just in terms of numbers. But I’m like an old man compared to you. I have progeny.”

“Progeny?”

“Crossword puzzle word. It means I have children.”

“I know what it means.”

“Well, then you also know that I can’t just up and leave anymore. Now that the boys are getting bigger, it’s not fair to Melissa if I head out of town for things like that. I mean, if there’s a problem here, that’s one thing. But I’m not going to search them out. Life’s too short for that.”

Taylor reached for a rag and handed it to Mitch to wipe the scraper.

“You’re still going to give it up?”

“Yep. A few more months and then that’s it.”

“No regrets?”

“None.” Mitch paused before going on. “You know, you might want to consider giving it up, too,” he added conversationally.

“I’m not gonna quit, Mitch,” Taylor said, dismissing the idea immediately. “I’m not like you. I’m not afraid of what might happen.”

“You should be.”

“That’s how you see it.”

“Maybe so,” Mitch said, speaking calmly. “But it’s true. If you really care about Denise and Kyle, you gotta start putting them first, like I put my family first. What we do is dangerous, no matter how careful we are, and it’s a risk that we don’t have to take. We’ve been lucky more than a few times.” He was silent as he set the scraper aside. Then his eyes met Taylor’s.

“You know what it’s like to grow up without a father. Would you want to do that to Kyle?”

Taylor stiffened. “Christ, Mitch . . .”

Mitch raised his hands to stop Taylor from continuing. “Before you start calling me names, it’s something I had to say. Ever since that night on the bridge . . . and then again in the Croatan. Yeah, I know about that, too, and it doesn’t give me warm fuzzies. A dead hero is still dead, Taylor.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know. It’s like over the years you’ve been testing fate more and more often, like you’re chasing something. It scares me sometimes.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

Mitch stood and put his hand on Taylor’s shoulder.

“I always worry about you, Taylor. You’re like my brother.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Denise asked, watching Taylor from the table. She saw the change in his demeanor, the sudden stiffness, as if someone had turned on a switch.

Melissa had seen it as well.

“Mitch and Taylor? Probably the fire department. Mitch is giving it up at the end of the year. He probably told Taylor to do the same thing.”

“But doesn’t Taylor enjoy being a fireman?”

“I don’t know if he enjoys it. He does it because he has to.”

“Why?”

Melissa looked at Denise, a perplexed expression on her face. “Well . . . because of his father,” she said.

“His father?” Denise repeated.

“Didn’t he tell you?” Melissa asked carefully.

“No.” Denise shook her head, suddenly afraid of what Melissa was getting at. “He just told me that his father had died when he was a child.”

Melissa nodded, her lips together.

“What is it?” Denise asked, her anxiety plain.

Melissa sighed, debating whether to continue.

“Please,” Denise said, and Melissa glanced away. Finally she spoke.

“Taylor’s father died in a fire.”

At her words, a cold hand seemed to settle on Denise’s spine.

Taylor had taken the grate to rinse it under the hose and returned to see Mitch opening the cooler for another two beers. As Mitch opened his, Taylor walked by without a word.

“She sure is pretty, Taylor.”

Taylor put the grate back on the grill, over the charcoal. “I know.”

“Her kid’s cute, too. Nice little guy.”

“I know.”

“He looks like you.”

“Huh?”

“Just seeing if you’re paying attention,” Mitch said, grinning. “You looked a little lost when you came back.” He stepped closer. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry I said those things earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It didn’t upset me,” Taylor lied.

Mitch handed Taylor the beer. “Sure it did. But someone’s got to keep you on the straight and narrow.”

“And you’re the one to do it?”

“Of course. I’m the only one who can.”

“No, Mitch, really, don’t be so modest,” Taylor said sarcastically.

Mitch raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m kidding? How long have I known you now? Thirty years? I think that entitles me to speak my mind once in a while without worrying what you think about it. And I was serious about what I said. Not so much about you quitting-I know you’re not going to do that. You should try to be a little more cautious in the future, though. See this?”

Mitch pointed to his balding head. “I used to have a full head of hair. And I’d still have it if you weren’t such a damn daredevil. Every time you do something crazy, I can feel my little hairs committing suicide by jumping right out of my head and plunging all the way to my shoulders. If you listen carefully, you can sometimes hear them screaming all the way down. You know what it’s like going bald? Having to put sunscreen on top of your head when you go outside? Getting liver spots where you used to part your hair? It doesn’t do much for the old ego, if you know what I mean. So you owe me.”

Taylor laughed despite himself. “Gee, and here I thought it was hereditary.”

“Oh no. It’s you, buddy.”

“I’m touched.”

“You should be. It’s not like I’d be willing to go bald for just anybody.”

“All right.” He sighed. “I’ll try to be more cautious in the future.”

“Good. Because in a while, I won’t be there to bail you out.”

“How’s the charcoal coming?” Melissa called out.

Mitch and Taylor were standing by the grill, the kids already eating. Mitch had cooked the hot dogs first, and the five of them were at the table. Denise, who’d brought Kyle’s dinner with him (macaroni and cheese, Ritz crackers, grapes), set his plate in front of him. After swimming for a couple of hours, he was famished.

“Another ten minutes,” Mitch shouted over his shoulder.

“I want macaroni and cheese, too,” Melissa’s youngest whined when he saw that Kyle was eating something different from what the rest of them had.

“Eat your hot dog,” Melissa answered.

“But Mom-”

“Eat your hot dog,” she said again. “If you’re still hungry after that, I’ll make some, okay?”

She knew he wouldn’t still be hungry, but it seemed to placate the child.

Once everything was under control, Denise and Melissa moved away from the table and sat down closer to the pool. Ever since Denise had learned about Taylor’s father, she had been trying to piece the rest of it together in her mind. Melissa seemed to divine the direction of her thoughts.

“Taylor?” she said, and Denise smiled sheepishly, embarrassed that it was so obvious.

“Yeah.”

“How are you two getting along?”

“I thought it was going pretty well. But now, I’m not so sure.”

“Because he didn’t tell you about his father? Well, I’ll let you in on a secret: Taylor doesn’t talk about it to anyone, ever. Not to me, not to anyone he works with, not to his friends. He’s never even talked about it with Mitch.”

Denise considered this, unsure how to respond.

“That makes me feel better.” She paused, furrowing her brow. “I think.”

Melissa put her iced tea aside. Like Denise, she’d stopped drinking beer after finishing her second.

“He’s a charmer when he wants to be, isn’t he? Cute, too.”

Denise leaned back in her seat. “Yes, he is.”

“How is he with Kyle?”

“Kyle adores him-lately, he likes Taylor more than me. Taylor’s like a little boy when they’re together.”

“Taylor’s always been good with kids. My kids feel the same way about him. They’ll call him to see if he can come over to play.”

“Does he come?”

“Sometimes. Not lately, though. You’ve been taking up all of his time.”

“Sorry about that.”

Melissa waved off the apology. “Don’t be. I’m happy for him. You too. I was beginning to wonder if he’d ever meet somebody. You’re the first person in years he’s actually brought over.”

“So there’ve been others?”

Melissa smiled wryly. “He hasn’t talked to you about them, either?”

“Nope.”

“Well, girl, it’s a good thing you came over,” she said conspiratorially, and Denise laughed.

“So what did you want to know?”

“What were they like?”

“Not like you, that’s for sure.”

“No?”

“No. You’re a lot prettier than they were. And you’ve got a son.”

“Whatever happened to them?”

“Now, unfortunately, that I can’t tell you. Taylor doesn’t talk about that, either. All I know is that one day they seemed to be doing fine and the next thing you knew, it was over. I never did understand why.”

“That’s a comforting thought.”

“Oh, I’m not saying it’s going to happen with you. He likes you more than he liked them, a lot more. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

Denise hoped that Melissa was telling the truth.

“Sometimes . . . ,” Denise began, then trailed off, not knowing exactly how to say it.

“Sometimes you’re scared about what he’s thinking?”

She looked at Melissa, startled by the acuity of her observation. Melissa went on.

“Even though Mitch and I have been together for a long time, I still don’t understand everything that makes him tick. He’s sort of like Taylor sometimes, in that regard. But in the end, it’s worked out because we both want it to. As long as you two have that, you’ll be able to make it through anything.”

A beach ball came flying from the table where the kids were sitting, bonking Melissa on the head. A series of loud giggles broke out.

Melissa rolled her eyes but otherwise paid no attention as the beach ball rolled away. “You might even be able to put up with having four boys, like we do.”

“I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Sure you could. It’s easy. All you have to do is wake up early, get the paper, and read it leisurely while drinking tequila shooters.”

Denise giggled.

“Seriously, do you ever think about having more kids?” Melissa asked.

“Not too often.”

“Because of Kyle?” They’d talked a little about his problem earlier.

“No, not just that. But it’s not something I can do alone, is it?”

“But if you were married?”

After a moment Denise smiled. “Probably.”

Melissa nodded. “Do you think Taylor would be a good dad?”

“I know he would.”

“So do I,” Melissa agreed. “Have you two ever talked about it?”

“Marriage? No. He hasn’t brought it up at all.”

“Mmm,” Melissa said. “I’ll try to find out what he’s thinking, all right?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Denise protested, flushing.

“Oh, I want to. I’m as curious as you are. But don’t worry, I’ll be subtle. He won’t even know what I’m getting at.”

“So, Taylor, are you gonna marry this wonderful girl or what?”

Denise almost dropped her fork onto her plate. Taylor was in the middle of taking a drink and he inhaled a bit of it, causing him to cough three times as he expelled it from the wrong pipe. He brought his napkin to his face, his eyes watering.

“Excuse me?”

The four of them were eating their meal-steaks, green salad, Cheddar cheese potatoes, and garlic bread. They’d been laughing and joking, having a good time, and were halfway done when Melissa dropped her bombshell. Denise felt the blood rush to her cheeks as Melissa went on matter-of-factly.

“I mean, she’s a babe, Taylor. Smart, too. Girls like her don’t come along every day.”

Though obviously said in jest, Taylor stiffened slightly.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he said almost defensively, and Melissa leaned forward, patting his arm as she laughed out loud.

“I don’t expect an answer, Taylor-I was kidding. I just wanted to see your expression. Your eyes got big as saucers.”

“That’s because I was choking,” Taylor answered.

She leaned toward him. “I’m sorry. But I just couldn’t resist. You’re easy to pick on. Just like Bozo over here.”

“Are you talking about me, darling?” Mitch broke in, trying to offset Taylor’s obvious discomfort.

“Who else calls you Bozo?”

“With the exception of you-and my three other wives, of course-no one really.”

“Mmm,” she said, “that’s good. Otherwise I might get jealous.”

Melissa leaned over and gave her husband a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Are they always like this?” Denise whispered to Taylor, praying he wouldn’t think she’d put Melissa up to the question.

“Ever since I’ve known them,” Taylor said, but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

“Hey, no talking behind our backs,” Melissa said. Turning toward Denise, she moved the conversation back to safer ground. “So tell me about Atlanta. I’ve never been there. . . .”

Denise took a deep breath as Melissa looked right at her, an almost imperceptible smirk on her face. Her wink was so inconspicuous that neither Mitch nor Taylor caught it.

And though Melissa and Denise chatted for the next hour, Mitch joining in whenever appropriate, Taylor, Denise noticed, didn’t say much at all.

“I’m gonna get you!” Mitch shouted as he ran through the yard, chasing Jud, who was screaming as well, the high-pitched shrieks alternating between delight and fear.

“You’re almost on base! Run!” Taylor yelled. Jud lowered his head, charging, as Mitch slowed down behind him, the cause lost. Jud reached base, joining the others.

It was an hour after dinner-the sun had finally set, and Mitch and Taylor were playing tag with the boys in the yard out front. Mitch, his hands on his hips, looked around the yard at the five kids, his chest heaving. They were all within a few feet of each other.

“You can’t get me, Daddy!” Cameron taunted, his thumbs by his ears, fingers wagging.

“Try to get me, Daddy!” Will added, his voice joining his brother’s.

“Then you’ve got to get off base,” Mitch said, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. Cameron and Will, sensing weakness, suddenly darted in opposite directions.

“C’mon, Daddy!” Will shouted gleefully.

“Okay, now you asked for it!” Mitch said, doing his best to rise to the challenge. Mitch began trudging toward Will, heading past Taylor and Kyle, who remained safely on base.

“Run, Daddy, run!” Will teased, knowing he was agile enough to stay well away from his father.

Mitch chased one son after the other, veering course as he needed to for the next few minutes. Kyle, who had taken a little while to pick up on the game, finally understood it well enough to run with the other kids, and soon his screams were joining with the others as Mitch made his way around the yard. After one too many near misses, Mitch surged toward Taylor.

“I need a little break here,” Mitch said, the words almost lost in the wheeze of his gasps.

Taylor darted off to the side, safely out of reach. “Then you gotta catch me, pal.”

Taylor let him suffer for another minute or so, until Mitch looked almost green. He finally ran toward the middle of the yard, slowed down, and allowed Mitch to tag off. Mitch bent over again, trying to catch his breath.

“They’re faster than they look,” Mitch said honestly, “and they change directions like jackrabbits.”

“It just seems that way when you’re old like you,” Taylor replied. “But if you’re right, I’ll just tag you.”

“If you think I’m leaving base, you’re out of your mind. I’m just going to take a seat here for a while.”

“C’mon!” Cameron shouted to Taylor, wanting the game to resume. “You can’t catch me!”

Taylor rubbed his hands together. “All right, here I come!”

Taylor took a giant step toward the kids, and with a jubilant scream they scattered in different directions. But Kyle’s voice, cutting loudly through the darkness, was unmistakable and suddenly made Taylor stop his charge.

“C’mon, Daddy!” (C’maw, Da-ee!) Kyle shouted. “C’mon, Daddy!”

Daddy.

Taylor, frozen for a moment, simply stared in Kyle’s direction. Mitch, who’d seen Taylor’s reaction, teased: “Is there something you haven’t told me, Taylor?”

Taylor didn’t respond.

“He just called you ‘Daddy,’ ” Mitch added, as if Taylor had missed it.

But Taylor barely heard what Mitch had said. Lost in thought, the word repeated in Taylor’s mind.

Daddy.

Though he knew it was simply Kyle mimicking the other children-as if calling out Daddy were part of the game-it nonetheless brought Melissa’s statement to mind again.

So are you going to marry this girl or what?

“Earth to Taylor . . . come in, big daddy,” Mitch said, unable to suppress a grin.

Taylor finally glanced toward him. “Shut up, Mitch.”

“Sure enough . . . Daddy.”

Taylor finally took a step toward the kids. “I’m not his daddy,” he said, almost to himself.

Though Mitch whispered the next words to himself, Taylor heard them as clearly as he’d heard Kyle’s a moment before.

“Not yet, anyway.”

“Did you guys have fun?” Melissa asked as the children came pounding through the front door, finally tired enough to call it quits for the night.

“We had a blast. Dad’s getting awful slow, though,” Cameron offered.

“I am not,” Mitch said defensively as he followed them inside. “I let you get to base.”

“Right, Dad.”

“I put some juice in the living room. Don’t spill, okay?” Melissa said as the kids trudged past her. Mitch leaned in to kiss Melissa, but she pulled back. “Not until after you shower. You’re filthy.”

“This is what I get for entertaining the kids?”

“No, that’s the response you get when you smell bad.”

Mitch laughed and started toward the patio slider, heading toward the backyard in search of a beer.

Taylor brought up the rear, Kyle right in front of him. Kyle followed the other kids to the living room as Denise watched him go.

“How did he do?” Denise asked.

“Fine,” Taylor said simply. “He had fun.”

Denise looked at Taylor carefully. Something was obviously bothering him.

“Are you okay?”

Taylor glanced away. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay.”

Without saying anything else, he followed Mitch outside.

With the evening finally winding down, Denise volunteered to help Melissa in the kitchen after dinner, putting the leftovers away. The kids were watching a movie in the living room, sprawled all over the floor, while Mitch and Taylor straightened things up on the deck out back.

Denise was rinsing the silverware before putting it into the dishwasher. From where she was standing she could see the two men outside, and she watched them, her hands unmoving under the water.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Melissa said, startling her.

Denise shook her head, returning to the task at hand. “I’m not sure a penny will cover it.”

Melissa picked up some empty cups and brought them to the sink. “Listen, I’m sorry if I put you on the spot during dinner.”

“No, I’m not mad about that. You were just having fun. We all were.”

“But you’re worried anyway?”

“I don’t know . . . I guess . . .” She glanced at Melissa. “Maybe a little. He’s been quiet all night.”

“I wouldn’t read too much into that. I know he really cares about you. He lights up whenever he looks your way-even after I teased him.”

She watched as Taylor pushed in the chairs around the table.

Denise nodded. “I know.”

Despite her answer, she couldn’t help but wonder why that suddenly didn’t seem to be enough. She sealed the Tupperware bowl with a lid.

“Did Mitch say anything to you about anything that happened while they were out front with the kids?”

Melissa looked at her curiously. “No. Why?”

Denise put the salad in the refrigerator. “Just curious.”

Daddy.

So are you gonna marry this girl or what?

As he nursed his beer, the words continued to echo through Taylor’s mind.

“Hey, why so glum?” Mitch asked, filling a plastic garbage bag with the remains from the table.

Taylor shrugged. “Just preoccupied. That’s all.”

“About what?”

“Just work stuff. I’m just trying to figure out everything I’ve got to do tomorrow,” Taylor answered, telling only the partial truth. “Since I’ve been spending so much time with Denise, I’ve let my business slide a little. I’ve got to get back into it.”

“Haven’t you been heading in every day?”

“Yeah, but I don’t always stay all day. You know how it is. You do that long enough and little problems start cropping up.”

“Anything I can do? Check how your orders are coming, things like that?”

Taylor placed most of his orders through the hardware store.

“No, not really, but I’ve got to get it squared away. One thing I’ve learned is that when things go wrong, they go wrong in a hurry.”

Mitch hesitated as he put a paper cup in the bag, feeling a strange sense of d#233;j#224; vu.

The last time Taylor had used that expression, he’d been dating Lori.

Thirty minutes later Taylor and Denise were driving home, Kyle between them, a scene that had been repeated dozens of times. Yet now, for the first time, there was an air of tension in the truck without a reason that could be easily explained by either of them. But it was there, and it had kept them quiet enough that Kyle had already fallen asleep, lulled by the silence.

For Denise, the sensation was a strange one. She kept thinking about everything that Melissa had told her, her statements rattling through her brain like senseless, ricocheting pinballs. She didn’t feel like talking, but then Taylor didn’t, either. He’d been strangely distant, and that only intensified her feelings. What was supposed to have been a casual, friendly night out with friends, Denise knew with certainty had become something far more important than that.

Okay, so Taylor had almost choked when Melissa had asked if marriage was in the plans. That would have surprised anyone, especially the way Melissa had blurted it out, wouldn’t it? In the truck she tried to convince herself of that, but the more she thought about it, the more unsure she felt. Three months isn’t a long time when a person is young. But they weren’t kids. She was pushing thirty, Taylor was six years older than that. They’d already had a chance to grow up, to figure out exactly who they were, to know what they wanted in their lives. If he wasn’t as serious about their future together as he seemed to be, then why the full-court press these last couple of months?

All I know is that one day they seemed to be doing fine and the next thing you knew, it was over. I never did understand why.

That was also bothering her, wasn’t it? If Melissa didn’t understand what had happened with Taylor’s other relationships, Mitch probably didn’t, either. Did that mean that Taylor didn’t understand it?

And if so, was the same thing going to happen to her?

Denise felt a knot form in her stomach, and she glanced at Taylor uncertainly. From the corner of his eye, Taylor caught her glance and turned to face her, seemingly oblivious of her thoughts. Outside the car window, the trees whistling past were black and clumped together, solidified into a single image.

“Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah, I did,” Denise answered quietly. “I like your friends.”

“So how did you and Melissa get along?”

“We got along fine.”

“One thing you’ve probably already learned is that she’ll say the first thing that pops into her head, no matter how ridiculous it is. You just have to ignore her sometimes.”

His comment did nothing for her nerves. Kyle mumbled incoherently as he adjusted himself a little lower in the seat. Denise wondered why the things Taylor hadn’t said suddenly seemed more important than the things he had.

Who are you, Taylor McAden?

How well do I really know you?

And where, most important, are we going from here?

She knew he would answer none of those things. Instead she drew a deep breath, willing herself to keep her voice steady.

“Taylor . . . why didn’t you tell me about your father?” she asked.

Taylor’s eyes widened just a little. “My father?”

“Melissa told me that he died in a fire.”

She saw his hands tighten on the wheel.

“How did that come up?” he asked, his tone changing slightly.

“I don’t know. It just did.”

“Was it her idea to bring it up or yours?”

“Why does that matter? I don’t remember how it came up.”

Taylor didn’t respond; his eyes were locked on the road ahead. Denise waited before realizing he wasn’t going to answer her original question.

“Did you become a fireman because of your father?”

Shaking his head, Taylor expelled a sharp breath. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Maybe I can help-”

“You can’t,” he said, cutting her off, “and besides, it doesn’t concern you.”

“It doesn’t concern me?” she asked in disbelief. “What are you talking about? I care about you, Taylor, and it hurts me to think that you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “I just don’t like to talk about my father.”

She could have pressed it further but knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Once again silence descended in the truck. This time, however, the silence was tainted with fear. It lasted the rest of the way home.

After Taylor carried Kyle into his bedroom, he waited in the living room until Denise had changed him into his pajamas. When she came back out, she noticed that Taylor hadn’t made himself comfortable. Instead he was standing near the door, as if waiting to say good-bye.

“You’re not going to stay?” she asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “No, I really can’t. I’ve got to get to work early tomorrow.”

Though he said it without a trace of bitterness or anger, his words didn’t dispel her unease. He began to jingle his keys, and Denise walked across the living room to be closer to him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She reached for his hand. “Is something bothering you?”

Taylor shook his head. “No, not at all.”

She waited to see if he would add anything else, but he didn’t go any further.

“All right. See you tomorrow?”

Taylor cleared his throat before answering. “I’ll try, but I’ve got a pretty full schedule tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll be able to swing by.”

Denise studied him carefully, wondering.

“Even for lunch?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, “but I can’t make any promises.”

Their eyes met only briefly before Taylor glanced away.

“Will you be able to take me into work tomorrow night?”

For a brief, flickering instant, it almost seemed to Denise as if he hadn’t wanted her to ask.

Her imagination?

“Yeah, sure,” he finally said. “I’ll take you in.”

He left after kissing her only briefly, then walked to his truck without turning around.