It's Better This Way Read online

  He set the beer down and claimed his seat. They were lucky to have found a table. At the first pub, they’d been forced to stand at the bar. It was something of a surprise to discover these microbrew beers were to his liking. Heath had never been much of a beer man, preferring fine single-barrel scotch or a dark red wine over canned beer.

  He’d already learned the difference between IPA, ale, and lager in a short lecture given by the proprietor of the first pub. The woman had been informative and entertaining.

  “You first,” Julia said, motioning toward the flight. It was suggested they start with the pale beer. The color and texture in the flight grew darker and richer as they continued sampling. Julia liked the paler beers, which he’d learned had a more distinctive flavor of hops and were closely aligned with the British ales. The IPA stood for India pale ale, which, he had been informed, was the most popular of the American craft beers.

  Heath swallowed the first sip and nodded approvingly. Julia tried it next and agreed. “This is good. I’ve never really appreciated beer before.”

  “A whole new experience for us both,” Heath said. He didn’t frequent taverns and rarely drank beer, unless he was with friends who did, and then only sparingly.

  Julia set the pale ale aside and as best they could exchanged notes with Kennedy and her friend. Next, Heath indicated she should be the first to sample the blond. From the short lecture, he recalled the brewing process included pale malt hops and yeast. He was good at taking mental notes and was impressed with the different varieties. It was enlightening to learn how many different types of beers there were.

  “What do you think?” Julia asked after he tasted the blond ale.

  He nodded, giving it his limited approval. If their first stop was any indication, the darker the beer, the more he enjoyed the tasting.

  He reached for the third sample, which he had learned was a German beer known as Hefeweizen. After his first sip, he frowned and handed it to Julia.

  “Tell me what you taste.”

  She took a tiny sample and then raised her eyes to meet his, full of question.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Don’t laugh,” she said. “Banana?”

  He could barely hear her above the rowdy crowd. He nodded. “I thought I was losing it. Banana flavoring in beer?”

  They both laughed, the alcohol loosening them up more with each drink.

  The last two tastes in the flight were a porter and a stout. They were heavy and not to Julia’s liking, so he drank them both. The flavors were strong and distinctive, to the point that he felt he could almost chew them.

  By the time they left for the third of the four pubs, they were in good spirits and even a little tipsy, which surprised Heath. He wasn’t sure this heady feeling was entirely due to the alcohol. Julia had gone to his head as potently as any fine scotch. He felt at ease with her, comfortable. It had been a long time since he’d experienced anything close to what he did with her.

  Had it been like this when he’d first met Lee? He couldn’t recall, and decided it was a mistake to look back instead of forward. He didn’t know what the future held when it came to him and Julia. What he did feel was encouragement and the eagerness to learn more about her. He’d basically given up on relationships, and to find a woman who seemed perfect, living right under his nose, was a complete surprise.

  As they left the pub to walk to the next one on the crawl, Heath reached for Julia’s hand, using the excuse that he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd. It would have been easy to get separated. Heath was determined to hold on to this woman in more ways than simple hand-holding.

  * * *

  —

  At the end of the evening they were on the Seattle waterfront. Heath felt the need to get some food in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten before the crawl. They passed Ivar’s, a well-known and beloved fish-and-chips restaurant.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked Julia.

  “I’m more drunk than hungry,” she said, smiling up at him.

  It demanded every ounce of his restraint not to lean down and kiss her. Her lips were moist and parted, and her beautiful eyes smiled up at him. He’d never been one for PDAs, but for the life of him, he was tempted.

  “How about fish and chips?” he said, purposely looking away.

  “Not on a date, right?” she teased, slightly slurring her words.

  Yup, they needed some food in their stomachs to counterbalance the beer. “Date or no date, I’m buying. You paid for the crawl tickets, so dinner is on me.”

  For a moment she looked like she wanted to argue, then seemed to change her mind. “One piece of cod with a side of chowder. Their chowder is the best.”

  “You got it.”

  Heath approached the window and placed their food order, along with two cups of coffee. When it arrived, he carried it to a picnic table on the pier and sat across from Julia.

  Summer in Seattle didn’t officially begin until after the Fourth of July. It continued to get better with every passing day and reached a peak in August and September. Heath loved the Seattle summers. This July evening couldn’t have been any more perfect. The sky was clear, and the stars were just starting to come out as dusk settled over the city. Shadows fell from the skyscrapers. A gentle breeze blew off the cool waters of Puget Sound, and Heath sat with the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. How any man could walk away from Julia left him speechless. The woman was the entire package.

  They took an Uber back to The Heritage and Heath rode the elevator up with Julia. Being a gentleman, he walked with her to her condo. When she unlocked the door, he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. She didn’t look surprised or agitated, and he was grateful. Either he kissed her or he would go insane. He’d been waiting for this moment all night.

  “I had a great time,” she said. The light remained off, and moonlight glowed through the window, bathing her in its golden softness. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, and she looked up at him.

  Neither spoke.

  Heath placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “I had a great time, too. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “I wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much alone. Spending the evening with you made this experience a thousand times better.”

  “I agree.” And then, because he couldn’t wait a moment longer, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Julia’s arms circled his middle, and she stood on her tiptoes as her mouth eagerly met his. Heath wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the shot of electricity that zipped through him like a spike of lightning. He deepened the kiss, and Julia opened to him like a rose in summer.

  He didn’t know how long they remained in the small entry with their arms around each other, kissing like love-starved teenagers. Eager now, their kisses were long enough to steal his breath away.

  Julia was the one who broke it off, leaning her forehead against his chest. She didn’t say anything, and Heath was afraid if he spoke it would spoil the moment.

  “Thank you,” she whispered after several seconds.

  He grinned. He should be the one thanking her.

  “It’s been a long time since anyone has kissed me like that. Or made me feel beautiful and wanted.”

  “Oh Julia, how could anyone not see your beauty?”

  She closed her eyes and smiled.

  “Remember, I’m cooking dinner tomorrow night.”

  “A man with culinary skills. Not turning that down.”

  “Good. I’d be disappointed if you did.”

  “I can help. We can prepare it together.”

  Heath would enjoy nothing better. “Sounds good. I better go.” He said it more for himself than for Julia. If he stayed any longer, he’d end up kissing her again. Stopping was hard enough as it was.

  She opened the door and then remained in the doorway as he backed out, wanting to hold on to the image of her as long as possible.

  “Good night, Julia.”

  “Good night.”

  Heath returned to his condo and found he couldn’t keep still. He walked from his home office to the kitchen and then back again. All he could think about was Julia. Her unique taste remained with him and he wanted more. Needed more.

  After ten minutes of mindless arguing with himself, he left his condo and rode the elevator down to Julia’s floor. This was crazy. He was acting like a besotted high-schooler. He didn’t care.

  After ringing the doorbell, he stepped back and waited.

  Julia answered and surprise showed in her eyes. Surprise was followed by a smile as she literally fell into his arms with a small cry of welcome.

  Heath kissed her again and again, unable to get his fill of her. Unable to stop.

  Pulling away from him, Julia’s hands framed his face as she smiled up at him.

  For the longest moment all they did was stare at each other.

  “About dinner,” Heath said.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s most definitely a date.”

  Julia smiled and nodded, and then he kissed her again.

  Chapter 8

  “Hey, Mom,” Carrie shouted as she arrived, bursting through the front door of their home.

  “Carrie.” Her mother stuck her head out from the kitchen. “This is a surprise.”

  From her mother’s look, it wasn’t a pleasant one. “Something wrong?” Carrie asked. It felt like she’d interrupted something. Her mother looked guilty, as though Carrie had walked in on her parents running through the house naked.

  Her mother shook her head. “Everything is
fine at The Heritage, right? You didn’t lose your job, did you?”

  “Mom, what would make you think that? I’m enjoying my job.” If she lost her position after only two weeks, it would be something of a record. Besides, she had come to love the variety of each day. It’d been fun getting to know the residents and their particular quirks and personalities. Every day was different, with fresh experiences.

  She’d gotten to know Kennedy, who was about her age, and had a soft spot for Eric, who rarely showed his face, although she’d taken to delivering his dinner every night. At first he seemed eager to get rid of her, which she found both amusing and challenging. Now, though, she was beginning to make a dent in the wall he’d built around himself, and a few times they’d engaged in brief conversations. From what she’d seen of his condo, she could tell Eric was a tech geek. Computers and monitors took up every bit of available space. She wasn’t sure what he did exactly, although she could guess. Even from their short conversations, she was learning more about him every day. He was different from any guy she knew, and the more time she spent with him, the more intrigued she became.

  Carrie’s dad came out of his den and wore the same anxious look. “Carrie, what are you doing here?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts about Eric.

  It hit her then. Her parents were afraid she was going to move back home. It was almost comical. For half a minute, she was tempted to toy with them, and then decided that would be childish.

  “Stop fretting, you two. I’m collecting my bike. Justin and I are going to ride around Green Lake.”

  “Oh thank goodness.” Her mother heaved a relieved sigh.

  Carrie started up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. “I need to get my helmet,” she said, rushing down the hallway toward her bedroom. She opened the door and was dumbfounded by what she saw.

  “Carrie…” Her mother shouted from the bottom of the stairwell. “I moved your things.”

  Carrie could barely believe her eyes. Her entire bedroom had been dismantled. Gone were her bed, dresser, nightstand, and desk. Her room had been transformed.

  Where her bookcases had once been was a large rack that contained spools of thread of every conceivable color. A rainbow didn’t have this many colors. A cutting table had replaced her bed, and a monster of a sewing machine covered up one entire wall. Out of curiosity she opened her closet doors, and, sure enough, the entire space was stacked with fabric from floor to ceiling.

  Where her mother had stored this volume of fabric before Carrie moved out was a mystery. She must have had it tucked in every room in the house, under beds, in boxes and drawers. Hidden. This was unbelievable.

  Closing the door, she stepped back, unable even now to believe the evidence staring her in the face. Her room was gone. The one place in the house where she belonged. Seeing it completely converted this way was a jolt.

  A few years earlier her mother had joined a quilting guild. Carrie hadn’t paid much attention. A smaller version of her current sewing machine had been set up in the laundry room, and her mother had attended classes and seminars. The quilts she made were works of art. She made them for friends and relatives, for homeless shelters, and for nursing homes. Her mother had always been generous with her gifts and talents. No way would Carrie begrudge her this space.

  Her mother joined her, looking guilty. “Are you upset?” she asked.

  Putting on a brave smile, she shook her head. “I have my own place now, so no worries. I’m grateful you’ve put my room to good use.” How her mother had managed to do all she had from a tiny laundry room before was amazing.

  “Has Dad seen your stash?” she asked, gesturing toward the stuffed closet. Her father would have a conniption fit if he was to know how much money her mother had spent on fabric.

  “He knows,” she said, lowering her voice.

  Carrie couldn’t imagine her dad not being appalled at the huge investment her mother had made in her passion for quilting. “Did he look inside the closet?”

  A smile wiggled at the edges of her mother’s mouth. “He did.”

  “And what did he say?”

  The smile grew until it covered her mother’s entire face. “He was aghast and claimed all that fabric must be worth over a hundred dollars.”

  Carrie burst out laughing, and her mother joined in until tears rolled down their cheeks.

  “And what did you say?” Carrie prompted, knowing her mother.

  “I looked at your father, gasped, and said, ‘Do you really think I spent that much?’ ”

  The comment told her how often her father went shopping. He probably believed bread still cost twenty-five cents a loaf.

  Her mother grew serious. “You meant it, didn’t you? About not being upset I commandeered your room?”

  “Not upset as much as surprised. No wonder you wanted me out of the house. You needed the room for all this equipment and for your fabric stash.”

  The two hugged. “Now, where did you say my biking gear was?”

  “In the garage. I’ve got it tucked away in boxes. Come on, I’ll help you find it.”

  * * *

  —

  A half hour later, Carrie was at Green Lake straddling her bike, patiently waiting for Justin, who was notoriously late. She should have known he’d be thirty minutes behind schedule. Normally, she’d tell him an earlier time to compensate for his lateness.

  When he finally rode up and joined her, she looked pointedly at the time.

  “Don’t give me grief. You know I’m always late,” he said, charming her with his smile. He looked great, another bonus. They’d met in college in a study group and dated off and on through the years. The relationship had never been serious. Not on her end. Justin seemed to enjoy the chase, and the connection had never been strong enough for Carrie to take it seriously.

  Carrie set her feet in the clips and glanced his way. “You ready?”

  He laughed. “I’m always ready. You’re the one holding things up.”

  That smile of his was far too convenient, and he used it effectively.

  “Come on,” she said, adjusting the strap on her helmet as she prepared to join others circling the popular lake. The summer day was perfect for biking, the weather in the midseventies. Justin was good company. For all his faults, and they were plentiful, she enjoyed being with him.

  The one serious drawback with Justin was his complete lack of ambition. He was content to work for a few weeks, then collect unemployment for as long as it lasted, while living at home.

  To the best of her knowledge, he had never lived on his own. His mother was a soft touch and his father was out of the picture. Justin made it sound like he was doing his mother a favor by living at home. From short conversations she’d had with his mother, Carrie knew that wasn’t the case.

  At the end of their ride, they were both sweaty and in need of a break.

  “How about grabbing lunch?” Justin suggested.

  “Sure.”

  “Hot dogs and soda?”

  “Perfect.” It’d been a month or longer since Carrie had enjoyed her guilty pleasure. Frank and Mustard’s was a favorite stand of hers, with their specialty hot dogs. No inside seating, although there were plenty of tables with umbrellas for alfresco dining. Carrie liked her hot dog piled high with jalapeños and coleslaw. Justin preferred chili dogs.

  They parked their bikes at the stand provided and located an empty table. Carrie waited for Justin to place their order and reached for the money to pay for her own meal.

  “Do you mind covering me?” he asked. “I’m a little short.”

  Carrie paused. “Seems to me like I covered you the last time we were out.”

  He shrugged. “Things are tough out there.”

  This was his way of admitting his reputation had finally caught up with him. Justin seemed unable to hold down any position for longer than a few months.

  After they’d graduated, Carrie had sympathized. Like Justin, she’d drifted from job to job herself. The difference was, she’d never left any position with hard feelings. Each one of her employers had been impressed with her work ethic and were sorry to see her go. By contrast, Justin either didn’t show up or made it known he’d prefer to get laid off.