Monkey Wrench

“Not the right kind of busy,” Rose said. “Have you ever seen her show, Joe? It’s really wonderful. Last week, Suzie showed how to make Christmas wreaths out of corn husks, how to roast a goose with sage leaves stuffed under the skin and how to make cranberry preserves in crystal glasses to give to your friends. Trouble is, Suzie’s apartment has a front door hardly big enough to hang a wreath, she’d never roast a goose for herself alone, and I’ll bet her friends in the city would rather eat caviar than cranberry preserves.”

“There’s no man in your life?” Joe asked bluntly, polishing off the first cookie and reaching for another.

“No. Yes.” Exasperated, Susannah said, “I have a gentleman friend whom I see regularly.”

“You ‘see’ him?” Joe inquired. “What does that mean exactly?”

“He’s her boss,” Rose supplied. “The station manager. It’s not exactly a hot love affair.”

“It’s comfortable,” Susannah retorted. “Roger and I don’t have time to develop a serious relationship with anyone, so we...well, we’re happy associating with each other. Dinner now and then—that sort of thing. Now could we please get back to the subject at hand—”

“They’re going on vacation together,” Rose added for Joe’s benefit, disregarding Susannah’s attempt to terminate the discussion. “But they’re going to plan the next six months’ worth of ‘Oh, Susannah!’ shows together. Can you imagine going to the beach to work?”

“No,” Joe said promptly. “But then, I hate the beach. I’d much rather go hiking in the snow. What do you want to go to the beach for? You’ll just get sunburned and sweaty.”

“I like the ocean.”

“It’s too hot.”

“It’s beautiful!”

“It’s boring.”

“How could anyone be bored at the beach?” Susannah demanded. “It’s so overwhelming and awe-inspiring—”

“I don’t go on vacations to be overwhelmed.”

“No,” Susannah said, studying him cryptically. “I don’t suppose a guy like you is ever overwhelmed.”

From the stove, Rose interrupted. “I hope you like marshmallows, Joe. I don’t trust a man who won’t eat marshmallows.”

“I love ’em,” Keeping his lazy-eyed grin trained on Susannah, he said, “I have a terrible sweet tooth.”

“But that’s your only weakness, right?” Susannah asked softly. She felt uncomfortably warm under Joe’s penetrating gaze.

He laughed. “How’d you guess?”

“Just a shot in the dark.”

“You think I’m a legend in my own mind?”

“If the shoe fits...”

Joe leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table and staring straight into Susannah’s eyes. “And you,” he said distinctly, “are so caught up in your big-city career that you wouldn’t recognize a real man if you ran into one in a dark alley.”

“I avoid dark alleys,” she replied primly.

“Scared?”

“No, just smart.”

“Sometimes even smart people have to take risks. Otherwise, life passes you by, Miss Suzie.”

“Children, children,” Rose cautioned, looking absurdly pleased as she carried two china cups of steaming cocoa to the table. Both cups were crowded with marshmallows. “You’re making assumptions about each other before giving this whole thing a chance.”

Susannah blinked in astonishment at her grandmother. “Five minutes ago you were threatening you’d never speak to this man again! Now you’re practically angling for a marriage proposal! What’s happened?”

Rose set the cups in front of her guests and said smugly, “I was blinded by a brilliant idea. I’ve never known two people who were more ideal for each other.”

“Ideal?” Susannah objected, laughing. “You’re always digging up men with whom I have nothing in common!”

“Hey!” Joe sat upright, feigning offense. “How bad do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re bad,” Susannah said quickly, making an effort to be polite despite her frustration. “It’s just that I’m perfectly happy the way I am, and I don’t need a husband to make my life complete.”

“Who said anything about becoming a husband?”

Susannah threw up her hands. “Oh, heavens, how did this conversation get started? Granny Rose, you never seemed to need a man in your life.”

“The right one came along at the right time,” Rose said peaceably, pouring herself a cup of cocoa from the saucepan and adding a generous pile of marshmallows on the top, “but he didn’t last, that’s all. When he passed away, I didn’t feel the need to go looking all over again. I had my happiness. But you haven’t had your chance yet, Suzie.”

“I am happy!”

Rose sniffed. “Drink your cocoa.”

“It’s delicious cocoa,” Joe said to Rose, cradling the cup in one rough hand and slurping marshmallows. “Unique, but classic.”

“Thank you, Joe.” Rose joined them at the table and sipped from her own cup approvingly. “I always add a dash of cinnamon and vanilla along with a pinch of sugar to sweeten the milk. I believe in going the extra step to make everything special...even with little things like cinnamon in cocoa. And I’ve taught Susannah to do the same. Why, you should taste her Christmas eggnog! It’s—”

“You don’t have to sell my wifely skills to Mr. Santori, Granny Rose,” Susannah interrupted dryly. “I am not a prize heifer on the auction block.”

“Don’t be rude, dear, while Joe and I are having an innocent conversation.”

“Must you be so obvious?”

“Obvious about what, dear?”

Susannah began to smile. It was impossible to stay angry with her grandmother, especially in such a ridiculous circumstance. In fact, it was almost a pleasure to be sitting comfortably around the old kitchen table, sharing a snack and laughing with old friends. And that was exactly how she felt about Joe Santori. For some reason, he fit right into the familiar scenery. He was relaxed and funny—surprisingly easy to be with. He bore Rose’s needling in the spirit it was intended. His laughter rang off the ceiling beams and rattled the delicate china cups on their hooks over the sink. His grin was friendly...and ever so slightly wicked. Susannah couldn’t help smiling back at him from across the table.

In a rough, manly kind of way, Joe Santori was very sexy. So sexy that Susannah found herself wondering if she hadn’t missed something in life, after all.

To Rose, Joe said, “So you’re not mad at me after all, Mrs. A.?”

“I’m annoyed, but not mad. I hired you to fix my back porch, not run my life.”

“Well, the porch is almost done, but there are a few other things this house could stand to have fixed, you know.”

“Like what?” Rose asked, drinking her cocoa.