Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3)

by Peel, Jennifer

  “What would we possibly need?” I didn’t want to sound like some stubborn female, but really, I didn’t need a man to rescue me. We had done all right on our own.

  “Well, I for one will need to hear your voice.”

  That was sweet, but … “Call me when you can, then. I don’t feel comfortable going through a go between.”

  “Rachel.” I could hear the plea in his voice. “It’s a couple of months. I know I keep saying this, but I’ll make it up to you and Drew.”

  We shall see.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Rachel, do you think you could be in charge of the advertising again this year?”

  I looked up at the PTA president. I hadn’t really been paying attention during our spring carnival meeting. I was partially annoyed that we needed a meeting in the middle of January for an event that we had every year and wasn’t taking place until May, right before school got out. I put on a fake smile to hide any irritation. “I would love to.” So maybe love was stretching it a bit. I was out of sorts. Andrew’s campaign was driving me crazy, and I had barely heard from him the last couple of weeks.

  “Oh, perfect. You’re the best.” Our PTA president, Janie, was the sweetest lady on the planet. “Your teacher liaison will be Mr. Kessler.”

  I turned around to look at Eric Kessler, the fifth grade math and science teacher. He had dated Cheyenne briefly. She had broken it off. Something to do with the fact that she could hear him chewing.

  He was all smiles and waved at me in acknowledgement. I think he caused quite the stir at the school with all the single female teachers. He reminded me of a young Clint Eastwood with his dark, combed back hair and angular facial features, but he didn’t look as intimidating with his kind, blue eyes.

  I turned back around and tried to pay attention to the rest of the meeting and who was assigned what. I did a terrible job. I kept tapping my pen against my pad of paper. Andrew was on my brain. His first town-hall meeting was tonight. I kept wondering how it was going and if I would hear from him. I was sure it would be on the news. Normally, state representative’s races didn’t receive so much attention, but because of who Andrew was and because it was a recall, it garnered more than its fair share. At least I had his mom’s visit to look forward to this weekend.

  “Rachel,” I heard my name called.

  I turned back from the exit. I had almost made my escape.

  Eric Kessler was approaching me.

  I waited for him near the door.

  “Hey, I wanted to see if you wanted to come have lunch at the school one of these days so we can discuss any ideas you have about flyers, and where we can advertise.” I guess he was planning on being more involved than the last teachers I had worked with. The previous year’s teachers were happy to let me handle everything.

  “Oh. Sure.” I was caught off guard by his willingness to be involved.

  “Would next week work for you? I have duty free lunch on Wednesdays. We could meet in the cafeteria at eleven.”

  “I think that works for me. I’ll try and put together a flyer before then.”

  He touched my upper arm. “Sounds like a plan. I look forward to seeing you.”

  “See you then.” I made my exit.

  I rushed home so I could put Drew to bed. Ashley was watching him for me, but I hated missing bedtime. I wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to want me to read to him at night. And I knew once Andrew was fully in the picture, Drew would be staying at Andrew’s some nights. As much as I felt for Andrew, I was having a hard time coming to terms with that idea.

  I came home to find Drew showing off all the whistles he and my dad made over Christmas. He still had to see his pocketknife every day, even if he wasn’t allowed to use it. I think he was afraid I might dispose of it. His fears weren’t unwarranted. I had thought about it.

  Ashley was a good sport about it. It probably helped that they had Gage in the house now. She was used to little brother type things.

  “Thank you, Ashley.” My arrival saved her from any more play by plays.

  She looked relieved. “You’re welcome, Miss Rachel.”

  “Drew, why don’t you head up and get ready for bed.”

  “Fine.” He sulked up the stairs.

  I handed some cash over to Ashley. “How’s Tessa and your mom doing?”

  She smiled, but it was subdued. “Good … but … it’s weird.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Her smile became more genuine. “I love having a new sister, but I’m leaving for college this year. I won’t get to know her very well.”

  “I’m sure that’s hard. Thank goodness for technology. Have you decided on a school?”

  She sighed and blew out a breath that sent her bangs into flight. “It’s between CU and UAB.”

  “I loved my time at CU.”

  “It is a good school, but …”

  “Too close to home.”

  Her grin indicated I hit the nail on the head.

  “I remember feeling like that, too. But once I was there, I felt like I had my own space, but it was close enough to come home and do laundry for free or shop in my parents’ pantry.”

  She laughed. “That’s true. And they do have a great pre-med program.” She was planning on following in her dad’s footsteps.

  I didn’t want to be too persuasive, but I knew Taylor wanted her to choose CU, at least for her undergrad. “And I think it was voted the campus with the best looking men last year.”

  That got her attention. Her beautiful brown eyes glimmered and she blushed.

  “Not that that’s a reason to pick a school,” I added in.

  “Boys are dumb anyway.”

  Poor thing still wasn’t over Spencer. “Yes, they are.” Unless you counted Drew. His dad, though, may qualify.

  After Ashley left, I settled in with Drew and Jake on the bed. We were well into the fourth book in the Harry Potter series. I had been reading extra every night to keep both of our minds off Andrew. Drew was missing him, as was I. I read until he was nodding off by my side; even the dog had fallen asleep.

  I made my way downstairs and pulled up my laptop to research some flyer ideas. The PTA voted to do an around-the-world theme for the carnival this year. I scrolled page after page, but didn’t see anything to my liking. Then I had the crazy thought that I could make one. I hadn’t sketched anything in forever. There wasn’t ever any time, it seemed, between my job, Drew, and the invasion of Andrew.

  I curled up in bed with my remote and sketchbook in hand. I turned on the late newscast to see if they had reported on the District 43 town hall meeting. While I listened to the weather and other local Denver news, I began to outline the Eiffel Tower. I had an idea to draw several famous world landmarks in a circle around our school mascot and name. I found myself starting over several times.

  Halfway through the newscast, they showed a clip of the meeting. There was Andrew, sitting down in a casual setting amongst his constituents at the local community center in Highlands Ranch. He looked good in jeans and a button-down shirt, with a blazer and no tie. The clip showed one woman ask how he planned to deal with overcrowding in the schools and teacher raises.

  The smile on Andrew’s face said he knew exactly what to say. “Education and taking care of our educators is one of my top priorities. My plan to make our area commercial friendly will bring in more tax dollars, to not only pay for new schools, but raise the salaries of our current teachers and bring in additional talented teachers. All without having to strain the pocketbooks of any of us by raising taxes on homeowners. I also plan to work with city leaders to see where there is waste so we can funnel that money into the school districts.”

  There was a nice round of applause among the several hundred people that were in attendance.

  That was really all that was shown. The news reporter added that it seemed like a success, and that the latest poll numbers had Andrew up by ten points.

  From the sounds of it, I was sur
e he was pleased with how it all turned out.

  I sketched a rough Eiffel Tower. It turned out okay. I was rusty. I hadn’t treated my hobby with much care over the last several years, but I liked the feel of a pencil in my hand and seeing my work come to life. I set down my rudimentary attempt for the night and turned in.

  It didn’t fail, as soon as I was ready for bed, Andrew seemed to know and always called. At least I hoped it was him. The phone number of Bryant, his campaign manager, popped up on my screen. I wasn’t too impressed with the guy. He sounded like a used car salesman, or worse, Landon Riley.

  “Are you still awake?” Andrew asked.

  “I think the fact I said hello should give you a clue.”

  He laughed. “I’ve been missing your sarcasm.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Among other things I can’t mention.” He was probably around the aforementioned campaign manager. “Speaking of missing things, why haven’t you returned any of my texts?”

  I thought back to the texts early in the day telling me he missed Drew and me. “I told you I don’t feel comfortable texting you on Bryant’s phone. How do I even know it’s you? Or worse, what if you don’t see it right away?”

  “Rachel, of course it’s me. Give me some credit.”

  “This is weird for me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry for that. I can’t talk long, we are on our way to have a late dinner and go over some poll numbers. So tell me how your day went. How’s our kid?”

  “He’s great. He wants me to sign him up for some karate program they do after school. I’m thinking about it.”

  “Will it interfere with baseball practice?”

  “How did I know you were going to ask that? And no, it won’t.”

  “Sounds good to me, then.”

  “Oh, really. I suppose you’ll be the one to take him and pick him up?”

  “I wish I could. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll try and call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.”

  I barely heard a muffled goodbye before the call was ended. I stared at the screen on my phone. It held a picture of Drew before his front teeth had grown back in. I looked into those eyes, the ones he inherited from his dad. I was becoming more and more frustrated at this situation. I was tempted to put off any contact until this whole election mess was over. We could reevaluate our feelings then.

  ~*~

  “You don’t seem like yourself today. Tell me what’s wrong.” Evelyn was perceptive. I liked that about her, even if I had been doing my best to be cheerful for our visit.

  I was grateful for the alone time with her while Drew was at the Coles’ for a bit. Gage, by court order, had to visit his dad in prison, so it had been a tough week for him. Easton and Taylor wanted to do something special for him, so they invited several of his friends over for a video game party on their theater-sized screen, it was a boy haven over there.

  I shrugged my shoulders and thought about what to say in response to my lovely friend’s concern. “I’m thinking about taking a step back.”

  Again, she was intuitive. She knew what that meant. “I don’t blame you. He hasn’t made this easy for you.”

  “I don’t think we fit into his life right now. I’m not sure if we ever will.”

  Her blue eyes tried to remain calm, but I could see the worry written in them.

  “No matter what, you’re always welcome to see Drew.” I wanted to put her mind at ease, if that was what she was concerned about.

  She reached across the back of the couch to where my hand rested. She laid hers on top of mine and rubbed it. “I know my son can be an idiot. He has this amazing ability to focus on whatever it is he’s trying to win, whether it’s a game or an election. That’s what made him a great athlete. But sometimes that marvelous ability of his ends up being his downfall. He’ll come out of this. He knows what’s most important.”

  “Does he?”

  “He cares about you and Drew more than anything.”

  I’m sure my eyes were full of skepticism.

  She scooted closer to me and squeezed my hand. “When I saw him last weekend, you were all he talked about. It’s not easy for him to be away from you, either. Hang in there. It will get better.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I’m not sure better was the right word for it, but the following week I found myself inundated with floral deliveries with cryptic messages every day at my office. Because all I needed was the gossip it caused.

  Monday’s note read, “Please take these the right way.” Tuesday’s bouquet looked like the Fourth of July. The note read, “America’s favorite pastime has nothing on you.” I guess that was his way of saying he liked me more than baseball. I guess that meant something.

  Liza, our receptionist, was in a tizzy. Every time she carried back a delivery, she was salivating to know who they were from. “All Alan says is that the orders are coming from Denver and they’re anonymous. I would say you have a secret admirer, but the first note sounds like the last delivery you got a few months ago. So who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Are you reading the cards before you bring these to me?” I gave her the evil eye.

  She wasn’t ashamed in the least. She and Cheyenne could have been sisters. “Do you know how boring my job is?”

  “Are you saying you want to look for new employment?”

  “How about I fill Jon’s spot as a customer service rep?”

  I hadn’t thought about Liza filling that position. Despite her headiness, she was good with people and she was working on her license. “How about we discuss that over lunch on Friday?”

  She beamed. “Maybe then you could tell me who the flowers are from.”

  “Thank you, Liza.” I politely dismissed her.

  She backed out of my office with a look that told me she wasn’t going to let it go and that she would be spreading the news. Andrew was still doing his best to insert himself into my life, whether he was present or not.

  Wednesday, the third delivery, was a bouquet of stunning red roses and a card that quoted Anne Brontë, a favorite of mine—He that dares not grasp the thorn, should never crave the rose. After that, I broke down and called Bryant’s number on the off chance I could catch Andrew. It was a good bet—I swore they were attached at the hip.

  “Is Andrew available?”

  He didn’t say a word, just handed over the phone to Andrew like I was a nuisance.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you to call me.”

  “Thank you for the flowers, and for remembering one of my favorite poets.”

  “I remember everything you tell me.”

  “I should probably let you go.”

  “Probably. Hang in here with me, please?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I know.” And I did know, but it didn’t make it any easier. It also didn’t help that the grapevine was buzzing. Everyone wanted to know who the mystery man was that was sending me flowers. I would have to thank Andrew for that later. I was going to especially thank him after my hair appointment Thursday night with Cheyenne.

  I knew from the moment she had me in her chair I was in trouble. Her stiff stance and shrewd eyes said something was off. I was feeling a little worried when I looked at the sharp scissors on her stand.

  She looked at me in the mirror and her intimidating eyes caught mine. “So, what will it be today, Rachel?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair under her scrutinizing gaze. “Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” She sounded ready to pounce.

  I craned my neck around to actually look at her. “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes began to flood with tears. I had never seen her cry.

  “Cheyenne?”

  She stood stoic, and it was like she commanded the tears not to fall. “You could have told me.”

  I ripped off the cape I was wearing and stood up. My heart was racing. I knew s
he knew, but I was surprised by her reaction. She could have almost any guy, and she’d had almost every guy Merryton and the surrounding communities offered. “Can we talk in your office?”

  Without a word, she marched toward her office. I trailed behind her, praying and hoping no one else in this town knew besides those I’d personally told. I almost feared for my life when I entered her office and she closed and locked the door behind us.

  We didn’t bother sitting. She stood there, towering over me in her leopard print heels. How she stood on those all day I would never know.

  “Cheyenne, it’s not what you think.”

  “Then what other reason would Andrew Turner’s mother be at your home?”

  I stood stunned for a moment that she knew that.

  She must have recognized the confusion in my features. “I saw her leave your house.”

  “Evelyn Turner and I are friends.”

  “Friends?” She looked like she wanted to throw something.

  “Cheyenne, I’m going to tell you something that you must keep quiet. It’s important to my family.”

  It was her turn to look surprised. Her features softened at the request. “I haven’t told anyone about your visitor.”

  “I appreciate that more than you know.”

  “So spill, Rachel. I can put two and two together. I know those flowers aren’t coming from anyone in this town, or from Eric Kessler, who’s taken with you, by the way.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  She rolled hers like it was so obvious. “He asked to be over advertising for your little spring carnival because he knew you would be involved. You need to keep up with the town gossip.”

  I shook that thought out of my head. I had bigger fish to fry. “The town gossip is going to consume me soon. I’ve been avoiding it.”

  “What did you think would happen if you dated Andrew Turner?”

  She said his name with such vehemence. But having her toss it out there like that hit me in the pit of my stomach. “There’s more to the story.”

  “You knew how I felt about him.”