The Curse of the Scots, Part Six
Three people; all in love. It's a mess!
The next morning when I awakened Cayden was already up and gone. He left me a note saying he had some work to do, but he'd be back in time for lunch. He thanked me for wonderful evening.
I yawned and stretched; I think did a good imitation of Vivian Leigh after the night Clark Gable carried her up the stairs in 'Gone with the Wind'. Last night had been wonderful. It had hurt like hell, but it was worth it. Cayden hadn't said much, but I saw the look on his face. I know he's in love. He loves me.
That's when it occurred to me again, for what seemed like the thousandth time; I was still dealing with a stupid backward farmer, and an ethnic Scot to boot. He loved me sure, but he was still who he was. It would take more than last night to get what I wanted.
I reflected on what I knew and I had heard about the Scottish. They were reputed to be stingy, but history disproved that. They were, as a point in fact, a very generous people. Cayden had certainly showed his generosity toward me. They were a practical but also an incredibly sentimental people. Most were reputed to be good humored, self-deprecating, and above all loyal.
The big downside was the long Protestant tradition; the Calvinist thing. How did I know all this? I couldn't say, but the Calvin thing was Cayden's big drawback. I could see it in everything he did. He had many blessings, but it was like for every good thing he got he was waiting for someone or something to come and take it away or at least muck it up.
What was that old adage; 'the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.' I thought of another one; 'You can but you can't, you will but you won't, you'll be damned if you do, you'll be damned if you don't.' Where did I get this stuff? I couldn't figure it out, but I knew one thing; somewhere Cayden was out driving around happy about what we discovered about each other last night, but I bet now he was also waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I had to face my fears. I knew I wasn't good enough, I'd never be good enough, not for him, but I was going to make my play. I would get him. I'd make him mine, but I realized I needed to do something more. I needed to push him over the edge. My bet was in the next day or two the something I'd need would show up on its own. I'd just have to wait.
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Angie has her demons too.
Matt really tried to put it to me last night; I guess what the guys would call the old full court press. He told me how much he cared about me. He told me he thought I was pretty; I know that was a little over the top. Cayden's the only man who told me he thought I was pretty who I ever sincerely believed.
Matt talked to me about Emily and how sweet she is. He gently reminded me about all the things we'd done together. Honestly, he went right to the edge; he almost suggested all our dates and time together had been his down payment on my body. He came close to the classic; 'look at all I've done for you, now how about some payback.' I could have gone either way; he was within a hair of getting inside my panties, he was also within a hair of getting the boot.
For sure, I'm not ready to give it up, not to him, not yet. I might be close, but not yet. Matt's going to have to say and do a whole lot more before he gets a piece of me. Bernard might have gotten some, but those were punishment fucks aimed at Cayden, the only other one was Cayden...Cayden...my Cayden, the boy I remembered.
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Cayden pays a man a visit.
I got out of my car and walked up the ramp that led to the outside door of Matt Devereau's library office. I didn't want to bother him inside; I thought maybe the outer door would be better. There were several people walking around outside. Yeah, it's a Saturday, bad day for this kind of thing, too many people around. I knocked anyway.
Devereau opened the seldom used outside door to his office. I was waiting for him. Matt stepped outside, "Yes Mr. McLeish?"
I asked, "Got a minute?"
He replied, "What for?"
I told him, "I wanted to ask how Angie's doing."
Matt didn't offer to let me inside; he stood at the door and answered, "She's doing fine Mr. McLeish. Her work record is good. She's acclimated herself quite well to the overall environment."
I realized I needed to clarify what I meant, "That's not exactly what I was here about Matt."
He asked, "What else could it be?"
I started, "You know she's my ex-wife. I wondered..."
Devereau butted in, "Mr. McLeish who she was or what she did before I hired her is immaterial. She's my employee, and I find her work satisfactory."
I stepped a little closer, "You've been dating her. Is that library policy?"
He answered but didn't back away, "Yes I have taken her out a few times, but frankly Mr. McLeish I don't think that's any of your business."
I leaned further forward. I didn't mean to touch him; it was a complete accident, but as we talked I inadvertently tapped my index finger against his chest. It was an honest mistake. I didn't mean anything by it.
When I thumped him on his chest he must have acted on instinct. I'd never dealt with anyone who knew Karate. He snapped my finger back, popped his thumb against my Adam 's apple, stuck out a foot, and with an arm landed me on my back. Once I was down I guess he had no choice but to warn me.
He pointed his finger at me, "Mr. McLeish you shouldn't strike at people you don't know. I'm sorry. I should have warned you. I'm somewhat familiar with the martial arts."
Holy shit, he had me on my back before I could've said oops or something. He reached down and offered me his hand. I accepted it, "I'm sorry Matt I wasn't trying anything. It was a mistake. I'm just worried about my ex-wife."
He bristled at me, "Angie's a grown woman. She's here by virtue of a Federal grant. Though I report on her activities I'm not her supervisor in the normal sense so our off duty contacts aren't technically in violation of any rules. As for your assault, I'll overlook it this time, but don't try anything like that again."
Assault? I was humiliated. What I'd done was hardly an assault! Worse at least a dozen people saw a scrawny librarian put me on my ass. Damn, couldn't I take anybody? I tried to recover, "Look Mr. Devereau I have a right to ask you about my ex-wife..."
He sort of spat back, "Maybe you do, but I'm not obliged to tell you anything. She's a grown woman. I imagine when I tell her how you were meddling in her life this morning she'll want to take some action. If she does I'll support her. Mr. McLeish you're a rich man. You have influence in this town, but be careful; don't go too far."
I'll bet there were twenty people crowding around when he said that. I felt like shit, "Sorry Mr. Devereau. I just worry about my ex-wife sometimes. I'll be going now." I got out of there as fast as I could.
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Later that afternoon shortly after I got back home Caprice sort of shuffled over, she took my left wrist, and sat me down. I knew it. She'd already heard, "Cayden you made a mistake today."
What could I say? I sort of mumbled, "Bad news sure travels fast."
"Angie called. She's real upset. She's upset with Matt because he might have hurt you. But she's especially upset with you because she's not sure how she feels about Mr. Devereau. Cayden she's talked to me. I think she's serious about the librarian."
I didn't know what to say so I said something totally stupid, "I've got to go check the horses." I grabbed my hat and left.
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The Firemen's Dance had been Friday night. Cayden got slapped around by Matt on Saturday. Sunday he and Caprice were back in church.
As soon as we walked in the church I knew something was up. Barry Campbell, Oren Camel, Bert McCabe, even Bernard Keith; half the men in town were there. We sat down in what had become our customary place, and in no time we were braced by a dozen of the biggest toughest guys in the area. Caprice was dressed in a pretty plum colored sundress. With her hair up in pigtails and with her new tortoise shell glasses she looked prettier than the sunshine streaming through the stained glass windows. She acted like nothing was going on, but I knew I'd be in for it after church.
Pastor Cook looked extra pleased; he'd not had so many young men in church in a long time. I'm sure he knew, considering where they were all sitting, why they were there. We went through the usual litany, the call to worship, opening hymns, reading the Biblical passages, the children's message, the sermon, the offering, a closing hymn, and the benediction. Caprice's voice was like the sound of a beautiful lark. It sent shivers up and down my spine. I loved being with her.
Church over I got up and started to help Caprice out of her seat; that's when all hell broke loose. One by one every one of those no goods had to stop over say something and try to hold Caprice's hand. She enjoyed it, or she acted like she did. Me, I was Kawlija again; just like the old wooden Indian I stood by and didn't say anything.
We made our way outside; she and I were standing in the grass. I was talking to Mrs. Stump and Alice Pressley when Campbell sidled up.
He walked over and just like he'd known her all his life. He took Caprice's hand, "The Sharptown Carnival's this week. They have the best fried oyster sandwiches on the Shore. I was thinking maybe I could take you over and buy you one."
I thought, 'Hell in a hand basket, I was going to take her to Sharptown. I just figured...'
Before I could get a word in Caprice flashed Campbell one of her big smiles and said, "Sure, what night did you have in mind?"
'Night? Whoa!' I thought...
Campbell said, "How about tomorrow night?"
