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Nicole pointed to the ribbon around her neck. “He may be referring to baseball, Chelsea. Your keys are on a lanyard with the Angels’ logo.”
“Oh.”
“There’s nothing like watching a baseball game at Safeco Field,” Barton said. “But I suppose you feel the same about the Angels’ stadium in Anaheim.”
“They’re the Los Angeles Angels now,” Terri objected.
“Except they didn’t actually move out of Anaheim.”
Chelsea was glad that Barton didn’t seem put off by Terri’s attitude. She wondered why her sister was always so thorny. Maybe Terri did it to keep people at a distance.
Terri looked ready to continue the debate and Chelsea felt a familiar clench in her stomach.
Nicole waved a spoon mounded with whipped cream in the air. “While I’ll never abandon my first love altogether—and I’m talking about the Dodgers here—there’s room in my life for a new friend. Safeco Field is a great place to bond.”
“That’s right,” Barton said approvingly. “The next thing you know, it’ll be season tickets and a Mariners flag on your garage. I understand the team has one of the biggest female fan bases in major league baseball.”
“I’ve heard that, too, and I’m ready to fall in love again.”
Sinking back in her chair, Chelsea ate a bite of strawberry. She was grateful for the way Nicole had defused the tense moment. If only she were so adroit.
If she had the nerve, she’d ask Barton if he had a season ticket to Safeco Field and how often he went to home games, but it might have looked as if she was hinting for a date. She wouldn’t have been, though having him as a friend would be nice.
* * *
JORDAN’S HEADACHE STARTED easing off as the evening wore on. He should have taken something when it first started instead of playing iron man. Of course, he was still uncomfortable in other ways.
Some of it stemmed from his attraction to Nicole, which he couldn’t completely ignore. It wasn’t that there was something terribly wrong with her. In fact, she was proving to have an interesting personality, though it was inconceivable to consider them getting together. But he would feel that way about any woman. He didn’t want ties. He wanted to be free to live life on his terms, and generally spent time with women who wanted the same.
The other part of his discomfort was professional. Nicole’s light comment about being ready to fall in love again had been offered playfully to ease the social awkwardness that Terri sometimes created. But a moment after the words had left Nicole’s lips she’d sent him a cool, challenging stare. It was as if she was daring him to take the words out of context and tell the magazine-reading public that Nicole George was anxious to find love. That kind of thing probably had happened and was a reminder of the gray areas involved with his work.
“Mount Rainier is incredibly beautiful,” Nicole said and he realized the conversation had shifted once more. “My friend Logan does photography up there whenever he has time.”
“My folks used to take us to Rainier to pick huckleberries,” Barton said. “We’d bring a picnic and spend the day picking.”
“I’ve heard of huckleberries, but what are they like?” Chelsea asked.
“Mostly they look like miniature blueberries. They taste great, but loganberries are my favorite.”
“Where do you pick those?”
“I don’t think they grow wild. Mom buys flats from a grower to make jam, and to freeze for pies and cobblers.”
“It…it sounds as if you have one of those old-fashioned mothers who cooks and bakes.”
His sister’s face was wistful and Jordan remembered how she used to play house when she was little, concentrating on it as if she could create a different kind of life for herself. It hadn’t worked. Nor had his attempt to escape reality as a teen through sports and girls. Only time and maturity had moved him to a better place.
“My mother is both modern and traditional,” Barton told Chelsea. “She’s an engineer in the aircraft industry and also loves the home arts. She cans, freezes and dehydrates fruits and veggies in the summer and fall. She also sews and enters stuff in the Puyallup Fair.”
