Double Mocha, Heavy On Your Phone Number Read online

  “You don’t let a lot of people do things for you, do you?”

  She smiled at him. “I just like to help.”

  “Well, thanks, but we’re covered. Go relax.”

  “I’m going to go crazy if I get any more relaxed.”

  “You’ll live. You should be able to go home tomorrow, late afternoon. I’ll try to find something for you to do.” He smiled and walked down the hall. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you dusted. I was gonna get to that.”

  “Now you don’t have to.”

  “Whippersnapper.” He winked and walked to his bedroom.

  Ellie didn’t want to go downstairs with Bix, but she didn’t want to sit upstairs alone either. She took the stairs slowly, stalling. Instead of sitting on the couch, she leaned on the side arm and faced Bix, who was at the computer. He hadn’t stopped looking at the screen when she came down.

  “Playing another game?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

  “Nope.”

  “Work?”

  “Nope.”

  She let out a sigh. “I’ll go back upstairs if I’m intruding in your space. I’m sorry for coming down here.”

  Bix stood. “No, you’re not intruding. I’m just…investigating.”

  “Investigating what?”

  “Let’s see; Sunrise Bagel and Coffee Shop. Two blocks west of — ”

  “You know where I work. Why are you digging around?”

  “Owners: Fred and Ginny Anson.” He looked up at her. “A married man. Tsk-tsk, Noelle Freeman.”

  “I don’t recall giving you my last name.”

  He returned his attention back to the screen. “Noelle Freeman has been the manager at Sunrise Bag — ”

  “All right!” she shrieked as she stomped over to the screen. “What the hell are you reading? We have a website?” she asked with surprise when she saw a picture of the front of their coffee shop on the screen. “When the hell did Fred make a website?”

  “Down on the bottom here is your host and the created — ”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “You asked.”

  “You mind telling me why you’re spying on me?”

  “Just curious. It’s not so hard to find things out when you know what you’re doing. I didn’t even have to hack into anything. It’s all right here for the world to see. That’s a great shot of your cleavage by the way.”

  “What? Now I know you’re lying.”

  He clicked on a link that led them to a few interior shots then he clicked on a photo of her at the espresso machine. She was frothing milk and it was almost a full-length shot. He hit a few keys, enlarging it until her chest almost filled the screen.

  “Pervert.” Ellie stepped away in a huff.

  “I’m not your webmaster.”

  “It doesn’t look dirty when it’s the normal size.”

  “Doesn’t milk splash and burn the girls?”

  “Oh, now you’re just being a jerk!”

  “No, I’m being a man. You leave ’em out, we’re gonna look. Apparently they were too much for old Fred to handle. Pity, Ginny looks like such a nice lady. He really does look a little old for you if I may say so. Is Tony the dishwasher?”

  “Oh, fuck you.” Ellie slammed her glass on the coffee table and bolted up the stairs and into the mudroom. After pulling on her coat and slipping on her boots, she stepped outside before zipping or lacing either. In seconds, she regretted it. The temperature had dropped considerably since she arrived there and the wind hadn’t lightened up all. In fact, it was worse and cut through her like razors. The door opened behind her as she rushed down the stairs. Gramps had shoveled them once, but they were inches thick again. She slipped when she reached the bottom, but caught herself on the railing. She landed hard on her bottom, but it could have been worse. Bix jumped down the six stairs in one leap and stood in front of her.

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she hissed, not wanting to look at him.

  “You’re not going anywhere in this mess, Ellie. Come back in.”

  She finally looked up at him. “You’re not even wearing a jacket.”

  “I didn’t plan on being out here long. Get back inside now. Please,” he added. “I’m sorry. I was being a jerk, but my balls are freezing. Please come back inside.” He reached out to help her and she accepted. Her rear end was tender from the fall. While still holding on to him, she reached back and gently rubbed at it.

  “I can do that for you if you want.”

  “I’m pretty sure frozen balls shatter on impact.”

  “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  They retreated back in the house and dusted themselves off as best as they could. “I have to put on a dry shirt. Come back downstairs with me. I’ll behave. I’m really sorry for being a dick.”

  “Apology not accepted, but I would like to borrow a sweatshirt.”

  “Cold again?”

  “Very.” Despite her best effort to fight it, her eyes pooled with tears.

  “Aw shit.” Bix pulled her to his chest. “I’m really sorry.”

  She allowed his comfort for a moment then she pushed him away and wiped her tears. Leaving him, she walked towards the door to the downstairs and walked down them carefully.

  When she reached the bottom, she went straight over to the couch and wrapped the afghan around herself. Bix wasn’t far behind. He went to his closet and took a hoody sweatshirt off of the shelf for her.

  “Here. It’s the heaviest one I have.” It was a white hoody that read Computer Geeks. It’s all about the input. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a smile though and didn’t.

  “Thanks.”

  He went back over to the closet and pulled one out for himself. When he took off his T-shirt, Ellie had to look away. For a computer geek, he sure had an awesome body; she hoped he hadn’t noticed her chin hit the ground. He pulled on a plain black sweatshirt and sat next to her.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Warming up?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  “Did I say I’m sorry?”

  “Yes and I still don’t forgive you. That was just mean.”

  “You just don’t seem the type, Ellie.”

  “What type?”

  “To mess around with a married man.”

  “I didn’t realize there was a type.”

  “You seem smarter than that, that’s all.”

  “I keep saying you don’t even know me.”

  “You like motorcycles, you like little sports cars. My guess is you like to drive fast. I’d put money on you have a red four-wheeler, too. You know how to drive farm machinery and I bet you can shoot a deer between the eyes at a hundred yards. How am I doing so far?”

  “Oh, do continue.” He had her spot on, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She waved her hand as if to say “carry on.”

  “You went to college and I’m not sure what for, but you dropped out and are more than a little bitter about it.”

  “Can we stop playing the analyze me game?”

  “You’re the one that said continue.”

  “Well, now I said stop it.”

  “What was it Ellie?”

  “What was what?”

  “What did you go school for and why did you quit?”

  “I said I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “Supper’s ready.” Bix’s grandfather called down the stairs.

  Ellie jumped at his voice, but was glad for the interruption. “Saved by the bell.” She stood up and hurried towards the stairs.

  Again Bix got in front of her before they went upstairs. “All right. Truce over dinner. I won’t ask you any more questions you don’t want to answer and no more jabs at your ‘lifestyle’ choices.”

  “I’d appreciate that. If we have to be under the same roof for another day, I would like it to be a comfortable existence.”

  “I can handle it if you can, sweetheart.”

  She scoffed at
his use of the word. “Afraid I can’t keep my hands off you, Bix?”

  “Your track record appears to point to the fact that you have a weakness.”

  “Thankfully your weakness is between your ears.”

  He stepped aside and motioned for her to walk ahead of him up the stairs. “After you.”

  Both Ellie and Bix behaved themselves for Gramps over dinner. They stuck to fun banter and safe Minnesota conversation — the weather. Of course this storm was nothing compared to the one in ’65 according to Gramps and they all had a good laugh adding their storm stories.

  “So, Ellie,” Gramps said when they were almost finished. “How is it that you and Bix know each other? I don’t think I heard the story.”

  She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she was going to tell him about the motorcycle or not. “He came in for coffee where I work one morning.”

  “Hmm. Seemed like there was more to it than that. A little tension even.” He looked back and forth at the two of them then focused his attention on Ellie again. “Asked you out, didn’t he?”

  She sniggered. “Yes, he did.”

  “And you had the brains to turn him down. Good for you.”

  “Hello. I’m right here.” Bix playfully jumped in. “If you want to really know the truth Gramps, we met once before that. Your bike stalled on me that Saturday that I took it out.”

  “It does that sometimes. Did you pop the clutch on her?”

  Ellie laughed. “No, I did.”

  “Gal after my own heart.” Gramps chuckled as he placed his hand on hers. “I like to give him grief, but he’s a good kid.”

  “You turning matchmaker on me, Gramps?”

  “Hell no. Pretty thing like you is probably already spoken for. Bet you’re engaged even.”

  Ellie’s face dropped. She stood up and dropped her napkin to her chair. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well again.”

  Bix stood up. “What is it?”

  “I just need to lie down. Do I use your bed or should I find the spare room?”

  Bix took her arm. “Downstairs is fine. Use my bed. I haven’t gotten around to making up the guest room yet.”

  Again she shook free of his hold. “I’ll be okay getting down the stairs. Thanks.”

  The two men watched her walk away slowly and shared a concerned look. When they heard the downstairs door close, Gramps spoke.

  “What in tarnation brought that on? You two have some kind of fight?”

  Bix shrugged. “Off and on since she showed up.”

  “What on earth are you doing to the poor thing?”

  “Me? She has a chip on her shoulder about something and just has her defenses up too high. Everything I say she twists around.”

  Gramps shook his head and stood up. “Youth is wasted on the young.” He picked up plates and Bix joined in. “Her last name is Freeman, right?”

  “Yup.” Bix picked up the casserole dish and went into the kitchen. Gramps followed with the plates.

  “That name sure rings a bell.”

  “I’d be surprised if you didn’t know the family. You know everyone in the surrounding counties.”

  “And you probably didn’t know your next door neighbor.”

  “True. I didn’t. That’s city life I guess. Our paths never crossed. I barely said ‘hey’ to someone in the elevator.”

  “Progress my ass.” Gramps scraped the plates and leftovers into an empty and washed Cool Whip container. “People have more gadgets to communicate these days and have lost the art of face to face.” He shoved the container at Bix. “Go put this in the barn for the cats.”

  “They eat casserole?”

  “They eat anything.”

  When Bix came back inside, he found Gramps in one of the spare bedroom closets. It was packed full of newspapers. “You ever throw anything out?” Bix asked.

  “I haven’t gotten around to all of them yet.”

  “Year-old papers? If you haven’t read them yet, I’m pretty sure it’s just old news, Gramps.”

  He ignored Bix as he dug through the piles, rapidly scanning headlines. “Ah ha. I knew I heard that name.”

  He held the paper up and Bix ripped it from his hand when he read the headline. “Holy shit!”

  Chapter Twelve

  The headline read: Freeman/ Birkey Wedding Party Killed in Accident

  Ted and Monica Freeman were on the way to their daughter’s wedding in Spicer on Saturday when they ran into a beet truck that lost control and jackknifed on Highway 23. Tony Birkey, fiancé of Noelle Freeman, the daughter of the victims, was traveling behind them and lost control of his truck, sliding under the beet truck and becoming trapped inside. The Freemans were killed on impact. Birkey is listed in critical condition.

  Bix read the article in disbelief. How could I be such a dick? He dropped the paper. “Do you have the next day?”

  Gramps dug until he found the next few days. The two of them took turns reading their findings to each other. There were stories for the next three days until Tony had died finally from his injuries.

  “Get this, Bix.” Gramps read an excerpt from the second paper. “Noelle Freeman is a nurse at County and has been unwilling to comment on his condition.”

  “She was a nurse?” Bix ran his hand down his face.

  “Poor kid. Here we were teasing her about being engaged.”

  “Worse than that.” Bix sat down on an ottoman.

  “How’s that?”

  “She called out for a Tony last night in her sleep. I didn’t want to upset you, but she passed out.”

  “Passed out?”

  “Her fever really spiked and we didn’t know it. She fainted. Her sleep was fitful. During the night she cried out for a Tony and I kinda picked on her about it.”

  “Picked on her? About her dead fiancé?”

  “Well I didn’t know he was dead at the time!” Bix ran his fingers through his hair and pulled his head down to his chest. “Shit!”

  “You go downstairs and keep an eye on that girl. You do what it takes to make it up to her. You can’t tell her we know. She’ll only get more upset.”

  “I’m sure of that.”

  Gramps stood up. “I’m going to turn in, too.”

  “Already? This is earlier than last night. You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just been a long day. You’ll finish up the dishes?”

  “I got ’em. Good night, Gramps.”

  Bix went downstairs after he cleaned up the kitchen. He sat at a computer and messed with a website he was working on for lack of anything better to do. He wasn’t worried about Ellie’s fever, he was pretty sure it was their conversation causing her to be upset.

  Almost an hour had passed when the door opened. He stood, in a clumsy rush, wishing he had been smoother about it. “How are you feeling?” he asked, but kept his distance.

  “I’m fine. I’m just not used to so much sitting around. I guess I’m tired for no good reason.”

  “You have plenty of good reasons. Your fever yesterday, stress over the weather, heavy meals, and your present company is a dick. Who wouldn’t want to nap and get away from it?”

  She allowed herself a shy smile. “I’m sorry I’m not much for company.”

  “You’re fine for company. I’m sorry you keep getting the T.F.D. every time you turn around.”

  “T.F.D.?”

  “Third degree.”

  “With a little adjective in there.”

  “One you’ve used twice already. I figured you’d get it.”

  “I can hold my own.” She used to have acronym wars with her brother all the time. The ones with “Fs” were among the easier ones to figure out. She sat on the couch and covered herself with the afghan again.

  “You sure you don’t want me to turn up the heat?”

  “No, really. I’m fine.”

  “You want to finish the movie?”

  “That sounds all right.”

  He walked over and picked up the remotes f
or the TV & DVD player. “You want to try to find out where we left off or start from the beginning again?”

  “The beginning. We weren’t that far in and we were talking anyway.” She watched him as he messed with the controls and started the movie. He looked her way.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re being nice.”

  “And?”

  “I think I’m afraid.”

  He laughed. “I just feel bad. That’s all. Truce?” She was quiet for a moment so he extended his hand and she shyly accepted it. Instead of a handshake, he brought it to his lips for a kiss.

  “Way to screw that up.” Frustrated, she pulled her hand away.

  “Come on. That was harmless. I’m serious. I really want us to be friends. I promise no more come-ons, no more mean cracks and if you don’t want to talk about schooling or anything, I promise I won’t bring it up.”

  “And what do I have to do?”

  “How about I show you a thing or two on the computer and you can show me a thing or two about everything else.”

  “Everything else?”

  “The bike, the four-wheeler…I bet you could outride my ass on the snowmobile, too.”

  “I’d take that bet.” She grinned.

  “So, deal? Pal?” Bix extended his hand again.

  She smirked before spitting in her hand then sticking it out. He turned up his nose at first, but did the same.

  “Honestly. I’m twenty-nine years old and that is my first spit shake.”

  She shrugged. “Brothers.”

  “I bet you can climb the hell out of a tree fort.”

  “Know of one so I can prove it?”

  “Actually, there’s a great one out back.”

  “You’re shitting me!”

  “I shit you not, doll face. Gramps built it years ago for the grandkids. He keeps it in great shape. Maybe if you behave yourself I’ll take you up in it tomorrow.”

  “I’d like that. And you can quit the names. Ellie will do.”

  “Sorry. Kind of comes out. No offense.”

  “None taken. I just don’t like it.”

  “All right. Do we need to spit shake again?”

  “I’ll take your word on it.” She returned her attention back to the TV.