“Come on, I’m sure you can handle more than two minutes of shopping. Get a grip!” she instructed. “Here, I made a list of the things we’ll need.” She took it out of her Kooba bag.
“Four small round tables, sixteen chairs,” he read,
“four armchairs, two love seats, two low tables, one high narrow table—oh my God, I think I’m breaking out in hives.”
“Can I help you?” A bald man stood in front of them. He was slender and neat, with cuff links and precisely pressed slacks. He wore geometric black-framed glasses and a skinny maroon tie.
“Yeah, thanks,” David said. He thrust the list at the 136
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man. “We’ll just take these things in, um . . .” He turned to Maddy. “Is brown okay?”
Maddy wrinkled her nose at him. “We’re not at In-N-Out Burger,” she teased. She turned to the salesman. “Would you mind showing us around a little?
We’re interested in clean, classic, elegant lines, nothing fussy. Also, I want everything to be comfortable—that’s important.”
The little man looked newly respectful. “Of course, ma’am. My name is Harrison. If you’ll come this way, I think you might be interested in the Verona line.” He led them toward a table and a grouping of chairs near the front.
“These are walnut, with maple inlay. They were featured in Town & Country last April. Are you and your husband looking to furnish your living room or dining room?”
Maddy widened her eyes at David behind Harrison’s back and mouthed, “Husband?” He winked back.
“Yes, these look great, Harrison,” he said. “My wife and I are furnishing both our living room and our dining room. We hardly have any furniture at all.”
“Ah,” Harrison chuckled gently. “Newlyweds?”
Maddy was trying to keep a hold of her giggles, but her face was flaming and her eyes were brimming with tears from the effort. She pretended to cough into her elbow. “Well, dear,” she said to David, “I’d like to look around a little, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, sweetie.” David’s eyes were sparkling 137
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mischievously. He draped an arm around Maddy’s shoulders and pulled her against him, ignoring the startled little squawk she let out. “What about this little ensemble?” He pointed to a sofa and easy chairs upholstered in prickly yellow silk. Maddy shot a quick glance at Harrison, who was watching benevolently. She could practically read his mind: What a nice young couple. She tried to refocus her attention away from the sensation of David’s arm around her to the furniture. She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that will go with our look, Davey. But this would be perfect.” She patted a sleek brown leather sofa and turned to Harrison, who was standing ready with a pad of paper and a pen. “We’ll take this.”
“Of course.” He made a note on his pad. “Will you be needing tables as well, Mrs. . . . ?”
“Uh, Sinclaire—ah, Ms. Sinclaire,” Maddy replied quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see David grinning broadly. “I’m keeping my maiden name.” She tried for a convincingly nonchalant tone. David snorted and she dug her elbow into his ribs. Harrison trotted after them as they perused the rest of the store, selecting little tables, easy chairs, straight chairs, and one gorgeous long oak table to place against the wall. Maddy could just picture bottles crowding its surface, wineglasses lined up in sparkling rows, and big bowls of grapes at either end.
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“Wow,” she said to David finally, “we’ve been here for over an hour and look—you still haven’t broken out in hives.” She held his muscular arm up to the light and pretended to examine his skin.
“I know—it’s practically a miracle. But now I have another serious medical problem.”
“What?” Maddy asked.
“I’m dying of starvation.” He clutched his stomach dramatically.
Maddy laughed. “Okay, you’re right. I think we have everything anyway. Let’s get out of here.”
Harrison rang them up and promised delivery in three weeks. He waved them out the door, looking extremely pleased. “He should,” David said when Maddy mentioned this. “We’re probably the best customers he’s had all summer.”
In the parking lot, they both slipped on sunglasses to fight against the blasting Napa sun. “So,” Maddy said, wiggling her shoulders against the pickup seat and cranking down her window. “Where should we eat?”
“Umm . . .” David thought as they cruised down the two-lane road. Puffy white clouds skated across the azure sky, and the scent of hot grasses blew in through the two open windows.
“Aaaoohhh!” Maddy suddenly yelled, sticking her head out the window. She dropped back into the 139
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passenger seat. “Sorry. I just had to do that for a second. What a gorgeous day!”
“Nice Tarzan yell,” David complimented her. “I think the last time I heard one that good, my buddy Rich was doing a cannonball off some cliffs on the coast.”
“Thanks—wait!” Maddy suddenly shrieked, grabbing David’s arm. “Turn back, turn back!”
“What is it?” He did a U-turn in the middle of the road.
“Pull in there! That’s exactly what I want for lunch.”
She pointed to a little wooden shack by the side of the road. A giant barbecue cooker was sitting in the middle of the parking lot, smoke pouring from its opening. Watched avidly by two dogs, an old guy in a stained white apron was poking the meat with a long metal fork. David parked right next to a sign reading pork ribs: half rack $3, full rack $5 w/2 sides.
! ! !
Twenty minutes later, David heaved a long sigh as he gazed down at the heap of shining bones in front of him. “You were absolutely right,” he said, wiggling around until he was lying flat on the bench of the picnic table at the side of the parking lot. “That was the world’s best lunch. I’ve never had barbecue sauce that good.”
“Mmmff,” Maddy agreed, gnawing at a rib. Her fin140
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gers were sticky and she knew she probably had a smear of sauce on her face somewhere, but she didn’t care. All she felt was happiness—she’d had a great meal, a successful morning, and she could feel the warm sun as she reclined at this old picnic table with David. He suddenly popped back up.
“What is it with you?” he exclaimed, staring right at her.
“Do I have more sauce on my face?” Maddy asked, reaching for her napkin.
“I’m not talking about sauce,” he said. “I’m talking about you. You keep confusing the hell out of me. How many girls do you know who can go from picking out fancy furniture to eating pork in an old parking lot and be perfectly comfortable with both?”
Maddy shrugged. “I love ribs. Anyway, don’t you think this kind is a hundred times better than the stuff you get in most restaurants?”
“Yeah, of course I do. I just wasn’t expecting you to think that too.”
Maddy leaned forward and slurped her iced tea without picking up the Styrofoam cup. Her hands were still covered with sauce. “Actually,” she admitted, “I’m kind of surprised at me too. I mean, I really do love ribs. But you’re right. It usually wouldn’t occur to me to just pull over somewhere like we did. I don’t know what it is—the place looked good and I just felt like it, ya know?”
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David was staring at her thoughtfully. “Yeah,” he said, piling their trash up in the middle of the table. “I feel the same way—it must be something in the air up here.”
Whatever it is, Maddy thought, scrubbing at her hands with a napkin, I like it.
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!
I’m so glad Dad agreed to go with the cream color,”
Maddy said, keeping her eyes on the strip she was carefully painting by the door. “Can you believe he actually wanted maroon?”