Page 15 of The Good Guy on My Porch

He handed me a small pack and I followed him to his car. I felt Sandra’s gaze on us as we passed, but I ignored her. I was sure I’d get an earful later. He opened my door for me and I got in, settling into a car that smelled and looked brand new. “Fancy car,” I said when he got in.

He looked at me in surprise. “It’s a standard four-door sedan. Nothing fancy here.”

I shrugged. “I don’t speak that language, but it’s brand-new and sparkly and clean, so it seems fancy to me.”

He started the car. “It was one of my last big purchases before I decided I’d rather have free time and mountain views than a downtown condo and a new car.”

“Still not speaking your language.”

He turned left on Main street and headed toward the mountains. It was then that I realized it was after eight and my mother would be expecting a call just about the time we got up into the mountains and out of cell phone range.

“I worked—”

“Hold that thought,” I said. “I need to make a quick phone call.”

“No problem.” His tone was light, but I knew I was being undeniably rude.

“I’m really sorry,” I said. “But this is better than the alternative, I promise.” No reason for him to know the alternative would be a frantic call from my aunt and an abrupt end to our hike.

Trying to keep the call as brief as possible, I assured Mom I was fine and promised I was staying close to home and had no intention of leaving town. I did tell her I was going to the movies with Carrie for the afternoon matinee and wouldn’t be able to call her until later in the evening. She didn’t like that, but she accepted it with a minimum of grumbling. I hung up, feeling terrible and worried about what Oscar must think.

When I glanced over at him, his jaw was tight. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m—” I stopped myself. I’d almost told him the truth, something I’d never told any of the Catalpa Creek locals. No one wanted to hear my sad story. And it’s not as though Oscar was single or this was a date. “It’s new. I don’t think he’d understand me spending the day with a guy.”

He nodded, eyes on the road, grip on the steering wheel tight. “In my experience, lying is never a good start to a relationship.”

And in my experience the truth had been the death knell for every relationship I’d ever had. “No one wants to know the truth, Oscar, not really. We all want to keep our fantasies alive and enjoy the glossy, fun moments. No one wants to see the warts and the dirt under our fingernails.” It occurred to me that Abram had said basically the same thing to me just a few days ago. But I wasn’t as bad as Abram, I wasn’t hiding a wife and a family, I was just keeping everyone in my sphere happy.

He sighed, but the tension left his body. “I don’t buy that. The right person will love the dirt under my nails and all my warts.”

“A romantic,” I said, my tone mocking, even as my throat tightened. I’d once dreamed of meeting someone who felt that way about me, but romances like that, friendships like that, only happened in books. “You are full of surprises, Oscar.”

“That’s me. Nothing ordinary here.”

“Before my phone call,” I said. “You were going to tell me about your last job.”

We were in the mountains now, the forest full of buds and flowers around us, and I yawned to pop my ears. He glanced over at me, his expression considering. There was a new wariness there and I hated that I’d created that distance between us. “Come on,” I said. “Give the poor girl who’s never left Catalpa Creek a story of the world beyond.”

Finally, he smiled. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “You’ve never been out of Catalpa Creek?”

“Only once. But it was a long time ago.” And I would never leave again, not as long as I was tied to my mother and her need to keep me safe. Safe. God, I hated that word.

“I worked for a big corporation in the DC area. I had a huge, corner office and a fat paycheck, everything that’s supposed to spell success, but I hated every minute of it.”

“What was so terrible about it?”

He glanced over at me and then back at the road, his expression unreadable. “I never spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted to do. I took all the right classes and internships. I did what was expected, but when I got into the job, I realized it just wasn’t for me. I didn’t have any time to do the things I really loved, to spend time with the people I loved. It wasn’t the life I wanted to live.” He shook his head. “I’ve never understood people who were okay with plodding through every day unhappy, working toward some goal they might not even live to see. We only get one life and I decided I wanted to live mine, to enjoy every moment, to follow my passion.”

“And the salt spa is your passion?”

He smiled and seemed to relax even more. “I wouldn’t say it’s my passion. Being in Catalpa Creek with the mountains at my back door, that’s my passion. I enjoy owning the salt spa, I think it does people a lot of good, makes their lives better and…I guess that’s my passion, helping people, feeling I’m improving their lives in some small way.”

“I feel the same way about my job at the library. I started there because I love books, love anyplace that houses books, but helping people, seeing them light up about a book or a new skill, that really makes me feel like I’m doing something special.”

He pulled into a small, dirt parking lot with only two other cars in it. He shut off the engine, pulled out the key, and turned in his seat to face me. “You ready to do this?”

I wondered if he’d let me off the hook if I pouted, but I’d never been a pouter and I wasn’t about to start now. “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

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