10. Twist Things Well

10

TWIST THINGS WELL

" H ey, Van," Kelsey said when she opened her door after work on Friday. "I wasn't expecting you. I just got home."

"Sorry," he said. He walked in and Frankie was running around his legs. He picked the pup up and gave him a little pet, then set him down. She found that move sweet. "I thought we should talk."

"Oh boy," she said. "I know that tone. You're going to break up with me, aren't you?"

She was laughing while she said it. In her eyes there was nothing to break up. She'd be super bummed, but two dates in wasn't enough for her to freak out.

Maybe she came on too strong a few days ago when she'd told Van he was a keeper and that she was glad no one held on to him before.

Nothing like scaring a man on the second date.

Hey, do you want to get married and have kids? You're a keeper. Might as well run out and get the wedding bands for the trifecta of how to make a man run fast in the other direction.

"No," he said. "I need to be honest with you."

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "What have you lied about?"

"Why I'm here," he said.

"Here in my house or here on this island?"

"The second one," he said.

"Come in and have a seat," she said. "Do you mind if I change? I'd like to be in comfortable clothing if I'm going to get hit with a confession that might piss me off or make me sad. I'm thinking it's going to be the first one."

"Most likely," he said. "Go on."

She snorted at how easily he agreed with her assessment and went to her room off the living room and pulled out shorts and a T-shirt.

Her skirt was off, along with her summer sweater. Her motions were jerky because she was already getting herself worked up.

She'd kicked her shoes off and they'd hit the wall loudly. Jesus, he probably thought she was throwing a fit in here.

Once she was changed, she came back out. "Sorry about the noise. My shoe hit the wall."

"Did you throw it against the wall?" he asked.

"Only from my foot. I kicked it off. I will admit I might have used a bit more force than necessary."

"I know I'm bombarding you like this. I just needed to get it off my chest."

"I'd ask if you'd like a beer, but I don't have any. I've got some scotch, but I'm not sure I want to waste it on you if I'm going to be pissed off."

He laughed at her. A forced one. "I don't blame you."

"Well," she said, sitting on the couch. He was in the chair. "Spit it out. Why am I going to be pissed at you rather than saddened?"

"My name is Donovan," he said.

"Okay. No biggie. I like Van better. It suits you."

"More than my mother calling me Donnie?" he said drily.

"Yeah, that's not you. What else?"

"I told you I moved here because of an inheritance."

"Yep," she said. "You wanted to start over, and I don't blame you. It's a great place to do it."

"My grandfather was Barry Elson," he said.

Her jaw dropped. He knew she'd know the name.

"What?" she asked. "That's my father's business partner in some properties."

"I'm aware of that. What I wasn't aware of was who you were until you said your last name on Friday night."

Which explained why he'd had the reaction he did.

She was playing it in her mind for a second and then said, "I'll give you a pass there. But once you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"It's complicated. I had no idea how we'd hit it off. After the second date I knew I had to come clean, but I couldn't do that until I met with your father first."

"You thought it was better to meet with him than tell me who you were?" she asked. She didn't like being put second on this one.

"Yes," he said. "You might not want to hear that, but it's the truth."

"That's why you commented on Saturday about seeing if I felt the same way soon, isn't it?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Yes. I had to work the past five days. It gave me time to figure things out and keep in contact."

"Not time," she said. "An excuse."

"You can put whatever word you want on it, but it's the same thing," he said.

"I bet you were good at your old job. You can twist things well."

"I'm not twisting anything," he said, running his hands through his hair. "You have no idea what I've gone through in my life. Nothing. We've gone on two dates."

She felt bad about this once she remembered that he'd almost died. He'd said that his mother passed years ago, and she'd assumed they were close.

No relationship with his father.

Then she started to remember bits and pieces about Barry. That he and his daughter were estranged, and that Barry had a lot of regrets about that and his daughter didn't want to reconcile.

Maybe Van was caught in the crossfire of it, and she had to cut him some slack.

If she could get the annoyance and frustration to move away for her to think clearly.

"I get it," she said. "I don't know the whole story, but I'm wondering if I know more than you do."

"It's starting to feel that way," he said. "I met with your father this morning. I've got a lot of thinking to do. A lot to go over. A lot of shit in my brain I can't focus on or process."

"So, you need space?" she asked, her voice rising.

"I don't know what the fuck I need. I'm here to be honest. You deserved to hear this from me and that is what I'm doing. I didn't come to fight." He stood up.

"We aren't fighting."

"So yelling is like the whole Mr. Franklin thing? Put a pretty name on it, but it's the same results?"

That was low but the truth. She jumped up fast. "Fine. You're right. I shouldn't be mad. I'm not sure why I am."

"You feel as if I lied to you."

"You're the one that said you did," she argued. "Maybe if you'd approached it another way you wouldn't have set me off before I even got to hear what you were going to explain."

He just stared at her. "Fair point," he said.

"Wow," she said. "I didn't expect you to agree with me. It kind of took the air out of my balloon." Her shoulders dropped. A good way to deflate her being worked up.

"Kelsey," he said. "I like you. I like you more than I've liked any other woman in years. I just need you to see I've got shit going on in my life and it's not about you."

"Meaning you want space?" she said. "Be clear because I don't want to assume anything."

"Not space like you think," he said. "But if you want to just end this now, I'm not going to argue."

Which pissed her off even more. That was almost worse than everything else he'd told her.

Maybe he didn't feel as deeply as she did on those two dates.

Though he did say he liked her more than anyone else.

Was she so weak that she'd fall for it?

"Maybe I like to argue," she said.

"I'm starting to see that."

"What do you want?" she asked. "Tell me that."

"I want a few days to figure things out. I've got a big envelope staring at me of information from my grandfather that I can't seem to open. I've got business reports I don't understand that I need to read at some point. I've got a job on top of it. I don't want to say goodbye to you. If I did, I wouldn't have told your father we'd been on two dates."

"You did what?" she asked almost shrieking.

She never told her parents she dated when it was that few dates.

But if he did say it to her father, then she'd have to think he did want it to continue.

She was starting to understand his comment about not knowing if he was coming or going.

"Sorry," he said. "It seemed the thing to do. I want no secrets from the guy that is my business partner. Nor the father of a woman I might end up seeing again. I know you're pissed I went to him first, but I did what I thought was right and sorry you don't agree with that."

She couldn't argue that he had a sense of loyalty.

He was right. It was two dates.

What he had with her father was much more in the bigger picture.

"Why don't we take a week?" she asked. "We can talk again next Friday and see how we both feel. Is that reasonable?"

"It is," he said.

He turned to leave, but she ran after him and grabbed his shirt again, pulled him down for a kiss. One where they were making out and his hands were in her hair and holding her head tight.

As if he needed that lifeline as much as her.

"Think about that for the next week too. Might as well add it to our list to help us make a decision."

Van nodded his head and left.

The minute he was out of the door, she grabbed her keys and Frankie and pulled out of her driveway, going straight for her parents' house.

She hoped they were home. At least her father. He was the one she wanted to talk to.

With her puppy in her hands, she went storming in the front door like a hurricane.

"You're here faster than I thought you'd be," her father said. "I suppose you just talked to Van."

She looked at her mother. "You know?"

"Your father told me this morning," her mother said.

"And you sat in the office and didn't say one word to me?" she asked. Why was this happening to her?

"It wasn't for me to say anything," her mother said. "I have to say I'm happy that Van told you almost immediately. He wouldn't have told you while you were working."

"No," she said. "He wanted to do it face to face. I was still dressed from work when he knocked on the door."

"I like him," her father said. "I was impressed with his composure and the fact he'd told me about you."

"Just great," she said. "I'm not even sure I'll see him again and you're already taking his side."

Her father laughed. "Kelsey. I'm going to say one thing about this. You're wound up tight and worked up, which means that you like him and want to see him again, but you need to calm down. The fact he'd told me about you says you might mean something to him too."

Her father was right. She didn't need to see the grin on his face either or the one her mother had to know the two of them had talked and agreed.

"I won't argue that," she said.

"Then give him the time he might need. I think you might need it too," her mother said.

"We agreed on a week for both of us to think things through. It's probably for the best."

"I think so," her mother said.

"I don't," her father said. "But you'll do what you need to."

"Why don't you think it's good?" she asked her father.

"There are things I know that you don't. That your mother doesn't and Van sure the hell doesn't. He's going to need time to get to wanting to know those things."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Your father can't tell you if he hasn't told me," her mother said. "And maybe it's between Van and his grandfather. Barry and your father were very close."

"I thought of Barry as an older uncle. Maybe even a father at times. He was a good man and had a lot of regrets in his life. You knew him. You liked him," her father said.

"I did," she said. "He was funny and sweet."

Barry had always treated her well. Maybe like a granddaughter at times. He'd come to some holidays and always gave them gifts. Treated them like family.

The family he never had and one Van didn't get to experience.

"Van doesn't know that about him. What he knows is that the guy wasn't in his life. That he didn't even show up to his daughter's funeral. Van was told that his mother wanted her father there and that he was notified."

"Barry didn't know," she argued. She remembered when that happened.

"Van doesn't know that," her father said. "He had no idea. In his mind, Barry didn't show up."

"Why?" she asked.

"My guess is that Adam, Van's father, plays a huge part in this."

"Van doesn't talk to his father," she said. "I don't know why. I didn't ask."

"There is a lot going on in his life," her mother said.

"No shit," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "Mr. Franklin!"

Her dog barked. Her parents laughed.

"Give him time," her mother said.

"Not too much time," her father said.

"Gee, thanks for that conflicting piece of advice."