Page 73 of Crossing the Line
Waverly shook her head. “I’ve spent nearly every waking hour with this man in the past few weeks, and I’ve never seen him this happy.”
“A boy and his dog,” Emmett laughed. “No love story can top it.”
They watched the love fest unfold as Xavier and Hamilton tumbled over in the grass.
“Come on,” Emmett said. “We’ll let them get reacquainted, and I’ll introduce you to Xavier’s mother. She can tell you several embarrassing stories about him before he notices we’re gone.”
Waverly laughed and trailed Emmett up the steps and through the screen door. They entered a large kitchen crowded with cabinets, a butcher block island on wheels, a huge oak table with mismatched chairs that seemed to be doubling as a desk, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases.
Pots bubbled and steamed on the gas range. Bowls and other cooking accessories littered the worn wooden counters. Jars of spices and the remains of a rainbow of ingredients clustered around the range and sink.
In the midst of it all, a tall, narrow-framed woman swore a blue streak at whatever was cooking in the oven.
Emmett had to cup his hands and shout to get her attention.
“Carol!”
The woman jumped and yanked the ear buds out of her ears. Even from across the kitchen, Waverly could hear a soaring aria.
“Jesus H. Christ, Em! You scared the shit out of me.” Carol shoved a hand through the sweep of sandy blonde hair going silver. Her brown eyes, Xavier’s brown eyes, held none of the reproof of her tone. Her gaze traveled over Emmett and landed on Waverly.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and in them, Waverly saw recognition and realization. “Oh!”
“Hi,” Waverly waved awkwardly.
Carol wore an apron decorated with cardinals and sprigs of holly over holey, low-slung jeans, and a University of Colorado t-shirt. And a murderous expression on her face.
“I’m going to kill him,” she announced, slamming down a spoon and advancing on Waverly. “Emmett, where is our son?”
“Out rolling around on the lawn with the dog.” Emmett didn’t look at all perturbed by his wife’s anger.
Carol came to an abrupt stop in front of Waverly, who resisted the urge to take a step back.
“‘I’m bringing a guest,’ he says. ‘She’s a client,’ he says. But do the words ‘Waverly Sinner the actress’ cross his tight lips?” Carol ranted.
“I’m guessing they did not?” Waverly ventured.
Carol rolled her eyes heavenward and surprised Waverly with a hard hug. “Welcome to our home that I would have redecorated from basement to attic if I had known you were our guest. You’re welcome to stay even after I kill my son.”
Waverly gave a relieved laugh. “Thank you, Dr. Saint. I appreciate your hospitality. You have a lovely home.”
“Call me Carol.”
“See? Bossy tone,” Emmett said, elbowing Waverly. “Dear, uh, how do we know Waverly?”
Carol rolled her eyes again. “You’ll have to forgive my uneducated husband, Waverly. He hasn’t been to the movies since the late nineties.”
“Ah, yes. I believe it wasTitanic,” Emmett said thoughtfully. He brightened. “Are you in movies?”
Waverly nodded in amusement. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t know, nor particularly care, that she was an actor. “A few.”
“I’ll educate you later on Waverly’s body of work, but first, before my soon-to-be deceased son comes in, please tell me that you’re dating Xavier and not ‘just a client’ as he made sure to mention eight times on the phone.”
“Stop pumping Waverly, Mom,” Xavier said from behind her. The screen door thumped closed. His suit had sprouted a thick coating of grass and dog hair, and his tie had been dislodged. The grin on his face told Waverly that he was confident he could coax his mother out of her anger.
Hamilton, a similar grin on his furry face, abandoned Xavier’s side and shoved his nose into Waverly’s crotch in greeting. She ruffled his ears and guided his nose to less personal areas. He bounded away from her under the table and returned, nudging a worn hamburger toy into her hand. The cloth was hard, suggesting many hours of dog slobber exposure.
Waverly took the burger and tossed it toward the refrigerator and Hamilton lunged after it.
