Making Chase Read online

  “No. No, I’m sorry. I just took it the wrong way.”

  “Like how?” Marc leaned on his cue.

  “She’s, well she’s sort of heavyset and if I remember correctly, Tim always had messed up clothes and was working on the side.”

  “You thought I meant since she was fat and poor she wasn’t our kind?” Marc narrowed his eyes at his brother and Kyle put a hand on Marc’s arm.

  “No, I think Matt likes her and is feeling protective of her. Like you’d be of any one of your friends. Right?” Kyle asked Matt.

  Matt nodded. “And she’s not fat. Don’t say that.”

  “I was being sarcastic.” Marc sent him an agitated glare.

  Matt put his cue away. “Whatever. I need to go. I’ll see you all on Sunday.”

  Shane frowned and motioned to Kyle and Marc to stay back while he followed Matt out the door.

  “Hey, asshole, wait up,” Shane called out and Matt stopped, his shoulders drooping.

  “I want to go home. Why are you pestering me?”

  “Take your attitude down a notch or five or I’ll have to kick your punky ass, Matt. What’s going on with you? You’re all over Marc tonight.”

  “I’m just—I don’t know what I am. I suppose I just felt bad for them all the sudden. The Murphys. Anyway, it’s been a long week. I’m going to go talk to Momma and then go home. I’ll see you later. I’m all right, really.”

  “You know where I am if you need me, okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Shane.”

  Shane squeezed his brother’s shoulder and let him walk away.

  Matt drove over to his parents’ house. The lights were on so they were still up. He tapped on the back door and his mother looked out the window, frowning as she opened it.

  “Well come on in, boy. Why did you knock?”

  He kissed her cheek and waved to his father, who sat in the breakfast nook, a steaming cup of tea at his right hand and the newspaper spread on the table before him.

  “I didn’t want to barge in and wake the baby up. It’s after nine.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sit down. I just made some tea and got Nicky down. He loves being with his Nanna and Pops.” She smiled at the mention of her grandson, who’d be turning a year old in just a few short months.

  “Pretty soon you’ll have another one to spoil.” He grinned and she did too. His father chuckled as he put the newspaper aside to drink his tea and visit with his son.

  “It’s a happy time around here, isn’t it? What brings you to my kitchen?” She poured him some tea and put a slice of coffee cake in front of him.

  “Momma, do you know much about the Murphy family? Tate?”

  She smiled, the way she did when she thought of someone she liked, and relief settled into him. “Tate’s a sweetie pie. She was just telling me you and Shane helped her the other day after Charlie whacked her with his car. I tell you, I know it’s a sin but I was relieved it was someone else’s bad driving that got them in trouble for a change.”

  Wisely, Matt avoided his father’s gaze so neither man would laugh. He knew his mother would pick up the story so he ate the cake and waited.

  “Anyway, Tate and her sisters own the salon where I get my hair done. Liv goes there regularly and Maggie from time to time too. Anne, the sister, she does my hair but Tate does all that newfangled razor cut stuff and the color jobby with the aluminum foil strips.” Polly shrugged. “She’s a nice girl. All those kids turned out so well. Especially considering what they came from.”

  Edward sighed and patted his wife’s hand.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The father, um, Bill, yeah that’s right, total drunkard. Lazy fool. Those kids went hungry a lot, I think. We tried to think on ways to get them food but the father…” She shook her head. “Refused any so-called charity. We did manage to get the kids free lunch at school. That Tate, she’s something else.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Her very perceptive eyes narrowed, honing in on him. “Why are you asking?”

  “She sent me cookies today for helping her after the accident. I met her when I went to thank her. She seemed nice but I realized I didn’t know much about her. Kyle suggested I ask you.”

  She harrumphed. “Tate Murphy is a nice girl, Matthew Sebastian Chase. She and her older brother are the ones who raised the rest of those children. Eight in all. The mother, she’s worse than the father. Kept having ‘em and running off again with some new man who blew through town. I saw Tate with babies on her hip when she was in kindergarten. They didn’t have the same kind of child welfare services then. But from what I’ve seen and heard over the years, every single one of those kids went to college if they wanted to or some kind of trade school and they all pooled together to pay for it. Tate and Tim being the oldest have done the lion’s share.”

  “How come I never saw any of this?” Matt felt shame that all this happened to people his age and he never knew.

  “Oh, they lived over in the trailer park on Ash. Not like you had much call to get out that way. You were lucky children to have your lives free of that sort of thing.” Polly clucked.

  The other side of the metaphorical tracks. That part of town was ramshackle and dark. Not the tree-lined stately homes of his neighborhood or even the nice residential flavor of the majority of Petal. That side of town had more burnt out cars and trucks up on blocks than oak trees.

  He stayed and visited with his parents for a while longer and went home. But Tate’s wide, friendly smile stayed with him even after he’d turned off the lights.

  Chapter Four

  Matt saw her everywhere once he’d actually noticed her the first time. That bright shock of white-blonde hair was a beacon along with the vivid, colorful clothes she always wore.

  Somehow, it fit and he loved the retro vibe it lent her. Quite often, she wore dresses that made him think of the fifties. Flared skirts and tight bodices in bright red or blue. Always shoes to match. The woman could probably give Cassie a run for her money in the shoe department.

  Two weeks after he’d gone into her shop that first time, he saw her sitting on a bench at city hall. It was early May and the day was clear and warm. Her hair gleamed in the sunshine.

  He plopped down on the bench next to her and began to unpack his lunch. “Hey there. This seat taken?”

  Her surprised jump made him glad she wasn’t eating or drinking anything after the first choking incident. “Hi. No. No, sit down. I was just having my lunch.”

  Looking between his sandwich and whatever the heaven-in-a-bowl she was eating, made his stomach growl. “What is that? Looks way better than a turkey sandwich.”

  She held out a forkful to him and without thinking he took it. Instantly, his taste buds lit as the flavor rushed into his mouth.

  “It’s green curry with tofu.”

  “That’s tofu? No way. Tofu tastes like, well, nothing.”

  She laughed, that sweet, musical laugh. “Tofu will soak up the flavor of whatever you cook it with. This has garlic, basil, eggplant and tofu in it and I like to add mushrooms just because. The green curry is spicy and the coconut milk is sweet. All together it just works doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I’ll never wrinkle my nose at tofu again.”

  She curled her lip at his sandwich. “Is that pressed turkey?” Her tone made it seem like he’d been eating dog poop.

  “Um, I don’t know?” He shrugged. “I get it at the market, in those baggies where the cheese is. Is it bad?”

  “Tell me something, Matt Chase, does your mother ever serve turkey that tastes like that?”

  He recoiled in horror. “Never!”

  She handed him the curry. “Good Lord, eat this. And go to the deli to get your turkey there next time. You know what a tomato is right?”

  Obediently he ate and nodded. “But it makes the sandwich soggy.”

  “Keep the slices in a separate baggie until you’re ready to eat the sandwich.” She peeled the bread and lo
oked at him accusingly. “Is this processed cheese? The kind that comes in little individual plastic sleeves?”

  “Yeah. Hey, I like that stuff!”

  “No you don’t.”

  She sounded so sure of it, he started to doubt himself. Instead, he ate the food she’d given him. “What are you going to eat?”

  She pulled out another container and two small containers. “I have marinated tomatoes and mozzarella with crostini.”

  “Huh?” He leaned over and nearly drooled when she pulled the lid off the container and the scent of olive oil and basil hit him along with the sweet acid of the tomatoes. “No way.”

  Grinning, she popped a tiny ball of cheese into his mouth and he groaned. “You can’t have it all but I’ll share some of it. I usually give my leftovers to Beth. If she hunts you down later, don’t blame me.” She pulled several little toasts out of a paper sack. “This is crostini. Just little pieces of toasted bread with olive oil or even plain. You put things on it, olive spread, tomatoes, cheeses, that sort of thing. My brother William works at The Honey Bear. He bakes the bread and tempts me with it even though fresh sourdough bread is the last thing I need every day.”

  “I go in there all the time. I can’t believe I haven’t recognized him. Does he look like you?”

  “He starts work at four in the morning and he’s off by two most days. You wouldn’t see him, he bakes in the basement. All of my brothers and sisters are redheads with green eyes except me and Nathan. Nate’s got brown hair. William looks like a younger version of Tim, my older brother.”

  He’d started to chide her about the bread thing until she spoke about her coloring. He remembered back to his momma’s comments about Tate’s mother’s behavior.

  Tate cocked her head and he actually saw her openness evaporate. “Yes, I’m aware of my mother’s reputation, it’s well-deserved but you won’t catch poor white trash by sharing a fork with me.”

  “Whoa!” The hurt in her words nearly made his eyes water. Putting the bowl down, he reached for her hand. “I would never think such a thing. Tate, I don’t think that about you.”

  “I saw your face change when I described my coloring to you.” She tried to remove her hand but he wouldn’t let go.

  “Yes. Yes, okay, I did think about what I’d heard about your mother. But that has nothing to do with you. I don’t even know your mother. For all I know, your dad has blond hair and blue eyes.”

  “Both my parents are redheads with green eyes, Matt. Don’t think everyone in the world didn’t notice me and Nathan and that we don’t look a damned thing like my father. Don’t think my father failed to notice and make us pay.”

  He stilled. “What do you mean?”

  She began to pack her things up. “I need to get back to work.”

  Reaching out, he touched her arm and she stopped, looking into his eyes. “Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. If you leave I have to give your food back.” He grinned tentatively and she snorted.

  “Ugh, another man after my food. I have to beat you all off with a stick. Really, it’s difficult to be objectified that way.”

  He laughed but he saw her humor as a way to deflect the conversation away from her comment about her father.

  They stayed for another twenty minutes or so before she had to get back to the salon.

  “I’ll walk back with you. I need to get to work too. I can’t believe we work across the street and I’ve never really hung out with you before.” He helped her pack up. “Wow, what is this little lunchbox thing?”

  “Cool isn’t it? It’s a Mr. Bento. I got it at this cookware store in Atlanta a few months back.”

  They walked companionably through the early May afternoon toward their end of town.

  “I take it you like to cook?”

  She nodded. “It’s a great stress reducer. It’s a way I can do something for my family.”

  “So you cut their hair and make them curry?” He grinned, liking that a lot.

  “I do. Although Anne is really good with hair too. We’re all pretty handy in the kitchen but it sort of turned into my place to be the house everyone comes to for dinner.” And they all knew her cupboards would never be bare, ever. Once she’d moved out, that was her promise to herself and she’d kept it. No one she loved would ever be hungry if she could help it.

  “Do you do men’s hair? I think I need a cut.” Absently, he ruffled a hand through his hair and a surge of giddiness rushed through her. Thirty-one years old with a crush, wasn’t that special.

  “We don’t get a lot of men in the shop. Men in Petal tend toward the barber shop on First. But we get a few and I’d be happy to do you. Um, do your hair that is.” She blazed bright red.

  He laughed. “You blush easily don’t you?”

  “It’s a curse of very pale skin I suppose.” They stopped just outside the salon. “Give a call to check the schedule, I’ll be glad to fit you in and trim you up.” She brushed the hair away from his neck and tsked. “And I’ll get your neck too.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.” He paused before waving and crossing. On the other side of the street he called out, “Thanks for the curry. I’ll talk to you soon, Tate.”

  “Hoo boy,” she mumbled, watching him as he went back into the stationhouse.

  Matt found himself in Tate’s company several times a week. He liked Tate Murphy a lot. Liked her cooking, liked her sense of humor, liked the shape of her eyes and the smattering of freckles on the apple of her cheeks. Her voice was low and scratchy, totally unique, just like the rest of her.

  He found himself thinking about her when he wasn’t with her and making excuses to try and bump into her around town.

  About a month after that first lunch with Tate, Kyle had invited himself over to Matt’s apartment with Nicholas and the three of them spent the afternoon watching NASCAR and building block towers. Nicholas was quickly approaching a year old and Matt had baby-proofed his living room and kitchen to make it safe for his nephew’s presence. Still, the boy was fast as lightning.

  Kyle jumped up to grab Nicholas when the doorbell rang. He opened it with Nicholas under his arm, laughing.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was Matt’s apartment.”

  Matt perked up at the familiar voice. He looked around Kyle’s body and saw Tate standing there holding a duffel. “It’s my place. Kyle and Nicholas are hanging out today. Come on in.”

  She hesitated and Kyle stepped back, allowing Matt to take her arm and pull her inside before she could bolt.

  “I, I’m sorry to interrupt. I was in the neighborhood and I remembered you saying you lived here.” That pretty blush crept up her neck.

  “You’re welcome to visit any time. Is this a social call or…?”

  Nicholas jumped out of Kyle’s arms and before either of them could move, Tate had effortlessly dropped the duffel and grabbed Nicholas and held him to her. Face close to his, she grinned and kissed his nose. “Hey you, the ground is lots harder than you think. Let me help.” She lowered him carefully but he didn’t take his eyes from her. Instead, he held his hand up and took her finger, tugging her over to his block tower and began to babble about it.

  Kyle’s eyes widened as Tate sat down and began to babble back and forth with Nicholas and work on the tower.

  “Not a social call, not purely,” she said over her shoulder.

  Matt stood still for a long moment, looking at this woman who took joy from building a tower with his nephew. She wasn’t faking it to seem attractive to him, he’d seen that one and it burned him up every time. No, Tate Murphy genuinely liked Nicholas and was having fun with him. How cool was that?

  “Can I get you something to drink? Oh and that’s Nicholas there and his daddy, my brother Kyle. Kyle and Nicholas, this is Tate.”

  Kyle moved to the place where Tate sat with Nicholas and joined them. “Hi, Tate. Nice to meet you.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you. Your mother and sister-in-law Liv come into my shop a lot. Some
times Maggie too. And you, Mister, are a very good builder. I’m very impressed. I haven’t built block towers in a few years and I’m a bit rusty, thank you for helping me.”

  Matt brought her a glass of lemonade and swallowed hard. Holy shit, yep, Tate was…well, yeah. He liked her. Liked her liked her. When did that happen?

  “What were you doing ‘round these parts?” Jealousy stabbed through Matt as Nicholas reached up and petted Tate’s hair. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s nice to see you.”

  “I was just at the assisted living house a few blocks away. I go on the first Sunday of the month with Anne and we do the ladies’ hair. It’s hard for them to get out like they want to, so we go to them. And the last several times we had lunch together you kept telling me you needed a haircut and as I was in the area and had my stuff with me, I thought I’d make a house call.”

  “You’re good with kids and the elderly too? You’re running an animal shelter at your house aren’t you?” He grinned.

  “I’m horrible with animals! We didn’t have pets when I was growing up and I have to admit dogs scare me and cats don’t seem to like me. I’m also a terrible housekeeper and I’m late all the time. I have many flaws.” She laughed. “I can come by another time for the cut since you’re busy.”

  “No. Please. Today is the first Sunday in over a month I’ve not been working or at someone else’s house. The wives are all out baby shopping, that’s why Kyle and Nicholas are here with me.” Did he even breathe through any of that?

  “Would you do my hair, too?” Kyle asked and Matt wanted to pop him one.

  She stood. “Of course. When Nicholas is ready, you let me know. I do children’s cuts too.”

  “You can do it today if you like. I mean, he needs it.” Kyle picked Nicholas up.

  “Oh no. There’s no way I’d cut a baby’s hair without his momma there. You’d be in big trouble with your wife, I’d wager, Kyle. But oftentimes, if it’s a first cut, kids feel better in familiar places so I’d be happy to cut his hair at your house or wherever.”