Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3)(84)

“You two gonna elope?” she said, coughing that rusty bark. “She’s been all smiles the past few days.”

James laughed. “We’re not eloping. I’m not that lucky.”

“Aw, listen to him. Sure, I’ll watch the dog. Bring me a present. I’m low on ciggies.”

“Thanks, Vin.”

Parker was in the shower when he got back. She was singing. He tilted his head. “Wheels on the Bus.” Maybe it was because her kid was coming up this Sunday, but she did seem happier.

He sure was.

For years now, Parker had been in the back of his mind—and in the front a lot of times, too. Though he’d had the expected hookups with Leah on and off for the past year, as well as a few before her, James hadn’t really been in what he thought of as a real relationship. He’d never met a girl’s parents. Never thought of himself as wanting more, except for a few hours at the cousin’s wedding, that was.

Last night, he and Parker had gone down to the dock with a bottle of wine and the dog. Spread out a blanket and just lay there, looking up at the stars, Parker’s head on his shoulder as she pointed out constellations he pretended he could see, blinded by the perfection of the moment. The water lapped gently at the rocky shore, and his fingers had played in Parker’s smooth hair, and it occurred to James that he’d never even imagined a moment like this happening to a guy like him.

“And right there, see? That’s Orion. See the belt?”

“Sure,” he said, seeing nothing. “It’s Armani, isn’t it?”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to mock me. It’s just that Harvard had a fabulous planetarium, and until now, I haven’t had anyone to impress.”

He held her a little closer. “In that case, impress away.”

She’d rolled on top of him instead. And hell, he’d been very impressed at what she’d done next.

“Come on, Parker!” he yelled now, thumping on the bathroom door. “You rich girls take forever in there.”

“I’m not rich anymore,” she said, opening the door. Wearing a towel, her wet hair streaming down her back.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Hurry up. We have a long drive.”

She smiled and padded into her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed. “You sure we should go anywhere?” Those green cat eyes were inviting.

“Actually, we can wait a little,” James said.

And so it was that they were a little late in getting down to Machias. “Why are we here?” Parker asked.

“I thought we could see a movie,” he answered.

“Which movie?”

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“Parker. The Holy Rollers in 3-D! opened a few days ago.” He glanced at her.

“Oh, crikey,” she said, putting her hand over her eyes. “Dang. I knew there was something great about having spotty internet.” She peeked at James. “How’d it do?”

“Fourteen million, second only to the alien flick.” He was well aware that she’d been paid quite a bit for the film rights, all of which had been donated to Save the Children.

“Do we have to see it? I’m taking Nicky as it is.”

“Let’s get it over with. You can make gagging noises with me. With him, you’ll have to behave,” he said.

“Good point.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in the little theater, along with about twenty rowdy kids between the ages of chair kicking and squealy texting. The previews began—Smurfs, gnomes, wizards, dogs. The kid behind him spilled his popcorn and started to cry. The tweenie girls in front of them giggled shrilly. “Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?” one kid chanted over and over while her mother ignored her and talked to another kid’s mom.

Even Dante couldn’t have imagined this circle of hell.

He glanced at Parker, whose face was a little gray. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’ll be great.”

“It’ll suck, James,” she whispered back.

“Terrible attitude. Put on your glasses, it’s starting.”

The lights lowered completely, and the movie began.

Parker was right. The Holy Rollers in 3-D! was ghastly. Obvious, blatant, manipulative and all wrapped up in more sugary coating than Lucky Charms cereal. Could there be any more shades of pink in the Holy Rollers’ tree house? One angel’s voice was so high that James imagined every dog in a two-block radius was howling. Rainbow-colored butterflies floated out at them in 3-D effect, as did bubbles, bluebirds and the glittery rush of angelic roller skates.

James glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes had passed. This felt longer than a problematic colonoscopy.

He sighed and put his arm around Parker, who was staring, horrified, at the screen. He kissed her temple, but she was mesmerized. “I can’t believe people paid money to see this,” she whispered.

Golly, Polly and Molly, Ike, Mike and Spike whooshed in and out of regular kids’ lives, ate angel food cake and soothed mortal children. A cat died and went to heaven. A dog learned that his limp wasn’t so bad. A bat, previously thought to have rabies, was accepted by the owl family, and throughout it all, the Holy Rollers delivered squeaky messages of mercy and good cheer.

A lifetime later, the Sappy Six had earned their sparkly wings—which seemed to flutter right into the audience. A few kids clapped. The tweenie girls pronounced the movie “so, like, totally stupid” and the audience filed out. Parker and James sat there, watching the credits.