A Man for All Seasons. HEATHER MACALLISTER

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      TYLER LOOKED DOWN AT the woman who’d been sabotaging his love life since the summer between fourth and fifth grade.

      He vividly remembered that summer. Their families had rented cabins in Colorado and enrolled Ty and Marlie in soccer camp. Marlie, being two years younger, practiced with the seven and eight year olds, while Ty was with the nine-tens, including dark-haired, dark-eyed, long-legged Blanca with the wicked kick. Blanca fascinated him—specifically her hair which blew all around, yet always fell smooth and gleaming back into place. And after practice, did Ty get to go with Blanca and the rest of the team and hang around the pool? No. Ty had to go over to the next field to collect little red-faced, sweaty Marlie with her bushy ponytail and walk her back to their cabin. Blanca never sweated.

      Blanca could have been his first girlfriend. Could have, but wasn’t, not with Marlie tagging along with him everywhere.

      And every other year or so, his summer was interrupted by a trip with Marlie’s family where he ended up responsible for her. Forget any possible summer romance. Even worse, while he was away, any girl he liked back home would find someone else to hang around.

      The only good thing was that Marlie never got a crush on him, so they got along okay. And there was the one good summer, when he got his driver’s license and they met the twins—a girl for him and a boy for Marlie, so she had somebody else to follow around. That was the only time he ever actually enjoyed one of the vacations.

      A boy for Marlie. Somebody else to follow around.

      Hmm. Maybe grown-up Marlie needed a boyfriend to follow around.

      Ty studied her as he tilted the beer back. She wasn’t his type, but she’d been engaged, so she was somebody’s type. Or she had been. Her hair was still bushy—it kind of went with the eyebrows—but her face was pale and bland. Her eyes were wide as she watched him, arms hugging her torso, her hands disappearing into the sleeves of a gray hoodie she wore with baggy pants. She always wore a gray hoodie and baggy pants.

      Depressed. The thought came to him and he wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. She spent hours in her office dungeon staring at a computer screen. It was enough to make anybody depressed.

      “You need to get out more,” he told her.

      She blinked and visibly relaxed.

      What? Had she thought he was going to hit her or something? When had he ever threatened her? Sure, he’d been mad earlier, but that was mostly frustration and he was over it. Or as much as he would ever be over it.

      “I know,” she said. “And I’ve already promised you that next time, I’ll find—”

      “I meant, for you. You look like a mole.”

      Another blink. “I get out. What do you call running with you every morning?”

      “We’re running together?”

      He raised his eyebrows and she held up her hands. “Okay, we leave at the same time. Give me a break. I’m still increasing my endurance.”

      “You need light, Mole Girl. It’s dark outside then.”

      “That’s because it’s December.”

      And that was another thing. “Is it?” Ty looked all around. “Where?”

      “What do you mean, where?”

      “I couldn’t help noticing the lack of holiday spirit around here.”

      When she gazed at him warily, he gestured with the bottle. “Over there is a two-story bay window with nothing in front of it.”

      “I like the uncluttered look.”

      “You can be uncluttered for the other eleven months of the year, but that spot is begging for a tree. Where’s your tree?”

      “Still growing, I guess.”

      “Same as last year?”

      “Trees take a long time to grow.”

      Yeah, she was depressed all right. He should have noticed before now. “Why don’t you decorate?”

      “Because then I’d have to undecorate.” She spoke with exaggerated patience.

      “Well, yeah.”

      She stared at him, one of those I’m-dealing-with-a-crazy-person stares. “What kind of look is that?” he asked her. “It’s a reasonable question.”

      “We both went home for Christmas last year,” she reminded him. “Putting up a tree would have been a waste of time.”

      “We’re not going anywhere this year. Our parents are doing that Christmas and New Year’s cruise.”

      “So?”

      Ty opened his mouth, but when he couldn’t think of anything to say, he took another sip of beer.

      Marlie’s face suddenly cleared. “I get it. You and Axelle want to decorate for Christmas.” She flapped a long sleeve at him. “Please. Go ahead. Knock yourselves out.”

      Ty hadn’t thought of it, but a decorating date wasn’t a bad idea. Hot cocoa with a shot of Kahlua, sugar cookies, the air conditioning set on low so there could be a fire in the fireplace, jazzy Christmas music playing, maybe those cinnamony candles burning, all the good feelings associated with the holidays… Ty was so caught up in the idea, he almost didn’t notice that Marlie had turned away and was headed upstairs to her bedroom.

      “Hey.”

      She stopped and looked down at him, no curiosity in her eyes. Not much of anything, actually. But then, he hadn’t spent a lot of time looking at Marlie Waters. When they were younger, he’d never paid attention because he was usually irritated.

      For the first time, he considered that she was probably equally annoyed to have been dumped on him during their summer trips. Kind of like the way he’d been dumped on her the past few months.

      There was a thought he hadn’t expected. This was her house after all; although it was so easy living here he tended to forget. Their moms had cooked up this scheme when he’d been transferred to Houston. At first, Ty had only contacted Marlie to be able to say he had, but once he’d seen all this empty space and she seemed okay with him staying here…but had she been? Okay with it? Had her mom pressured her? Was having him living here making her depressed?

      As he looked up at her, he tried to remember if her expression had always been carefully blank and he was only noticing now because of the new vantage point, or if he should get her into therapy ASAP and find some place else to live.

      She was waiting for him to say something.

      “I appreciate you letting me stay here. I know it’s been a lot longer than we thought it was going to be.” He watched for a reaction, a clue to her thoughts.

      “It’s not a problem.”

      Nothing. “Yeah, but you can’t buy your own furniture when I’ve got mine taking up all the room.” He nodded СКАЧАТЬ