Part 1 (2/2)
”Okay, maybe not any second,” he revised with a grin. ”Still, what you need-what we both need-is to relax. Between the going-away parties, packing, loading the truck, paperwork, the drive ... it's been crazy.”
”You're right. It has been a whirlwind.”
”Mmm-hmm.” Nick wrapped his arms around her waist and tilted his head toward hers. ”What do you say I start the fire, pour us some champagne, and then later on, we can grab a bite at that bar and grill we pa.s.sed on the way into town?”
”And in between the champagne and dinner?” she asked coyly, her gray-blue eyes sparkling in the dwindling late afternoon light.
”We'll see if we can't warm you up.” Nick unzipped his wife's sweats.h.i.+rt and left her with a lingering kiss before starting to work on the fire.
Stella, meanwhile, set about draping one of the large woven blankets over the front windows. As she worked to obstruct the view of potential visitors, large drops of water came cras.h.i.+ng down onto the driveway and the front porch steps. ”Hey, it's raining.”
”See? I wasn't too far off. My senses are just dulled from all the city noise and pollution. Give me a few months of living here and I'll be able to predict rainstorms, snow acc.u.mulations, and the s.e.x of unborn calves.”
”That's fabulous,” Stella replied dryly. ”I'm sure your folks in New Jersey will be very proud.”
Nick laughed and looked up from the pile of wood he had stacked, in crisscross fas.h.i.+on, inside the hearth. ”What are you doing?”
”Covering the window.”
”I can see that. Why?”
”For some privacy.”
”Uh ... you do realize the nearest house is over a half mile away, don't you?”
Stella tossed the last bit of blanket over the empty curtain rod and then stepped back to examine her work. ”Yes, but this way, if someone drops by, they can't see us ... you know.”
”Who's going to drop by? No one knows we're here.”
”Well ... I don't know. I guess you can take the girl out of New York but you can't take the New York out of the girl.” She sat on the edge of the air mattress and watched as Nick deftly lit the kindling. ”But I, like you, will adjust. Yep, give me a few months and I'll be used to living in the middle of nowhere with dirt roads, no neighbors, and no blinds. In fact, I may even take to walking around the house naked.”
”No complaints here,” Nick replied as he stoked the fire with a long stick. ”But your mother on Long Island will be horrified.”
”You think maybe that will keep her from visiting?”
”Doubt it. If I were you, I'd say we moved to a small town where cigarettes, vermouth, and polyester stretch pants are outlawed. She'll never step foot near the place.”
Stella pulled a face. ”Eh ... I'm not sure that's enough.”
”Okay, tell her that all the elderly men in town lost their retirement funds in the banking crisis and now take turns working part-time s.h.i.+fts at the McDonald's in Rutland. If poverty doesn't keep your mother at bay, nothing else will.”
Stella frowned, recalling the day her mother, Lila, filed for divorce from her father, Michael Thornton, citing irreconcilable differences. In truth, the only thing in their marriage that could not be reconciled was Michael's New York City police detective's paycheck with Lila's need to finance weekly hair appointments, shopping sprees, bridge clubs, c.o.c.ktail parties, and the other female trappings of success she saw her society friends enjoying. But with custody a non-issue-Stella, their only child, was to start college that fall-Michael saw little reason to fight the divorce. Desolate, he agreed to Lila's demands and consequently wound up funding her gold-digging escapades for the next eighteen years, first through his alimony payments and then, more recently, through his widow's death benefit.
”And not a country club for miles. You know, honey, if we stick to that story, we may even be able to scare her into moving down to Boca.”
”We should be that lucky.” Satisfied with the fire he had produced, Nick grabbed the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and started to remove the wire cage. ”Now if we can only find a way to keep my parents from vacationing here-”
”I love your parents!” Stella interrupted.
”Of course you do. They wors.h.i.+p the ground you walk on.”
”No, they don't.”
”Yes, they do. My mother is always calling to ask you for recipes and fas.h.i.+on advice.”
”Who else is she going to call? She has two sons and only one daughter-in-law.”
”And my dad? He thinks you're the greatest thing since La-Z- Boy started putting cup holders in their recliners.”
”I don't know, he's awfully fond of those cup holders.”
”They don't rate quite as high as you do, though.”
”Oh, stop it,” Stella laughed. ”You know your parents love you.”
”And I love them. But I don't want to have to remind myself of that every day of their four-week stay.”
”Is that how long they stay with your brother?”
Nick nodded.
”Wow. Okay ... we'll just have to tell them that we don't have cable television and that pocketing Sweet'N Low from restaurants is a state offense.”
”You know, you may be even more terrific than my parents claim.” Nick wrapped the neck of the champagne bottle with the front of his s.h.i.+rt, revealing a smooth chest and stomach, both of which had been finely sculpted by hours of exercise and field training.
”You're, um, pretty terrific yourself.”
Nick replied to the statement with a pop of the champagne cork. Once the initial spate of foam had subsided, he dispensed the bubbling, straw-colored beverage into the waiting gla.s.ses and pa.s.sed a flute to Stella. ”To you,” he toasted and clinked the rim of his gla.s.s against hers.
”To us.” She took a celebratory sip and felt her body warm as the citrusy effervescence of the champagne burst against her palate. ”Mmm, very nice.”
”Glad you like it. I asked Alice to pick it out, since, as you know, I'm”-Nick smacked his lips together and stuck his tongue out in an expression of distaste-”not a fan.” He placed his gla.s.s on the hearth, rose to his feet, and disappeared down the hallway, only to return a few seconds later with a bottle of beer. ”Fortunately, I also asked her to pick up six of these.” He extracted a multifunction knife from his pocket and used it to pry off the cap before sitting back down.
”Domestic beer,” Stella noted as she tilted her gla.s.s against the neck of the brown bottle. ”To you and your budget-minded taste buds.”
”New homeowners need to make sacrifices,” he stated before taking another swig. ”Besides, there are other ways of getting a buzz.”
In the glow of the fire, Nick's eyes appeared deep brown instead of the green-laden tone they undertook in daylight. Stella was tempted to lean forward and bestow upon him a kiss that would overshadow all their previous kisses, but she decided instead to string him along just a bit longer.
”Oh yeah, I've heard about Vermont's reputation for illegal substances. But you know, honey, it's been nearly twenty years since you graduated college. Aren't you past that experimental age?”
”That's not exactly what I meant.”
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