Sweet on Peggy

by Stella MacLean

  “No. You choose. I love it all.”

  “Well, since you chose Mr. Orbison, let’s continue on with him.” Rory read down the offerings. “How does ‘Oh, Pretty Woman,’ followed by ‘In Dreams’ and ‘Blue Velvet’ sound to you?”

  She grinned up at him from her perch on a large pillow. “I’m ready when you are. I wish I had been around when he was a star. Imagine going to a concert of his.”

  The first bars of “Oh, Pretty Woman” rose from the jukebox as Rory settled on the cushion beside her. They both leaned back against the front of the sofa for support. He slipped his arms around her shoulders very slowly. She edged closer to him and smiled up into his eyes as the sensual music swirled around them.

  He breathed in her scent as he whispered in her ear. “The next song is ours. We’re going to dance to it.”

  They snuggled together, singing along to the words and laughing when they hit a high note. “We might make it yet. The dynamic duo,” he said, leaning in and kissing her lips.

  Her sudden intake of breath, her hands reaching for him, her lips kissing him back, all of it made him want more...way more. The song ended.

  “Okay,” he stood up and reached for her hand. “May I have this dance?”

  “You may,” she said, grasping his hand while he pulled her up and into his arms. As the first notes of “In Dreams” flowed through the room, he held her gently in his arms, imagining what it would be like to hold her whenever he wanted to.

  “I love this song,” she said, taking the hand he offered as he held her.

  The heat of her body next to his, the flowery scent of her hair... He closed his eyes, holding her close, swaying to the music, his fingers entwined in hers. It was all so perfect, exactly what he wanted, his feelings from earlier slipping away. He’d been wrong to believe that making love to her would only be having sex. He wanted this woman, needed her in his life. As he held her, the words of the song, about a dream where a man walks with a woman he loves, Rory was overcome with the urge to tell Peggy how he felt. When the song ended, he reached over and turned off the music, while continuing to hold her close.

  He looked down into her brown eyes, touched her forehead and ran his fingers along her cheek. “Peggy, I love you. I’ve loved you since the first day I met you. The day you took my blood.”

  Oh no! What had made him say that? It had been a confusing evening, and he had suddenly made it much worse. Talking about love was a dumb move.

  * * *

  PEGGY’S BREATH CAUGHT in her throat. No man had ever said those words to her before. She was so overcome by the love in his eyes, the anxious way he rubbed her back as he continued to hold her. He meant those words. Rory MacPherson loved her.

  She loved him, too, despite their rocky beginning and her insecurities where men were concerned. She loved him, wanted him and missed him when he wasn’t around.

  Yet, love had to be real, forever, like her parents’ love. Rory had only been in Eden Harbor a matter of weeks. He was clearly unsettled. He had issues around his time in Haiti, really difficult ones. His future seemed uncertain to her.

  She’d been searching for a man like Rory, someone who was fun and exciting. She also had to feel safe, protected and be assured that he’d be around for the difficult times.

  She remembered how kind and sweet her father had been when her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. He’d taken her to her appointments, cheered her up when she was sad or not feeling very well. After each treatment, he went out and bought her a little gift. She remembered the Santa figurine he’d given her after her last treatment, just a week before Christmas. Would Rory be that kind of man?

  She wanted to believe that he might be, but until he sorted out his life, and she hers, they needed to take it slow. Rory was the kind of man who could break her heart if she let him.

  Yet underneath it all, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was he telling her he loved her simply another rash act on his part? They’d been together all evening. The kiss they shared had been real. What if the words simply slipped out? Could anyone fall in love that way? The first time they met? How many people can really say it was love at first sight and mean it?

  Then there was his move here. He had told her it was an instant decision, an impulsive choice. Going to Haiti had been based on a need to escape rather than on a plan.

  Yet there was one thing she hadn’t counted on or considered. She loved him. She wasn’t sure how it happened or when. It didn’t really matter, anyway. What mattered was that she couldn’t tell him, not just yet. She was not good at sharing her feelings. Feelings were risky.

  What if she told him she loved him, and tomorrow or next week he decided he had to go back to Haiti? It would break her heart, and she’d be left trying to figure out how to live without him. Worse, she would feel betrayed by him, by his confession of love that was conditional on him being able to do what he wanted, not what they needed as a couple.

  He had no family connection here. No reason to stay unless his love for her was strong enough to keep him from wanting to leave. And if that happened, how long would it be before he started blaming her for his lost opportunity to go to Haiti?

  She looked up at him, at the kind, caring expression on his face and knew she couldn’t say the three words he was waiting to hear. “I’ve had a really difficult time these past weeks. Finding my birth father, learning that he was the one who came on my property without permission really affected me. Then my mother, the biopsy. It’s all been very difficult.”

  She felt his body stiffen, his sudden intake of breath followed by a long sigh. Standing so close suddenly felt awkward. Rory moved aside, picked up his coffee cup and took a sip, his back to her.

  Why had he turned away? Did he not want her to see what was in his eyes? Why hadn’t he shown concern for all she’d been through these past few weeks? If he loved her, where was his compassion?

  “Why don’t we focus on us for a little while? Live in the moment?” he asked, his tone light, noncommittal.

  She felt exposed, vulnerable, unable to figure out what to do next. She’d never been involved in something like this before. She’d never loved a man who loved her. “You’re angry.”

  “No. I’m not. I shouldn’t have said what I said, that’s all.”

  So he hadn’t really meant those words? She’d been right. They’d simply slipped out in the heat of the moment. She had once again accepted what a man told her because she cared about him, not because she knew him well enough to know he was telling the truth.

  Sadness filled her. She’d been thrilled to come to Rory’s apartment for dinner, and now it was going to end badly. Glancing around at the space, at his personal things, she felt removed from him. “I’d better go,” she said.

  He turned to her, his eyes kind but distant. “We both have to go to work tomorrow,” he said, his voice low.

  * * *

  AS IF SLEEPWALKING through a dark dream, Rory managed to walk Peggy down to her car, his thoughts frozen, his legs wooden. He’d had so many plans for this evening, all of them involving Peggy, none of them remotely possible now that she’d rejected his love. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d spoken too soon. Yet in the face of her rejection, he was certain of one thing. He loved her. Sure, he was hurt that she didn’t share his passion for Haiti, but he hadn’t really given her a chance to understand what it was like, how much volunteers were needed. He opened her car door.

  She stood beside him, her hands clutching her purse, her eyes on his shirtfront. “I...I really enjoyed this evening. Thank you.” She raised her eyes to his.

  He couldn’t look at her, knowing that she had no real feelings for him, at least none that she would share with him.

  She slid into the car seat, and he eased the door closed behind her, shutting off any opportunity to say anything more unless she opened her window. He stepped back as she started the engine. He turned as he watched her taillights flash red before she pulled out onto the street.<
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  He stared up at the cloudless sky, at a full moon that no amount of street lighting could hide, wondering why and how things had gone so wrong. He thought he did everything right this evening. They’d had a beautiful meal, lots of warmth and sharing. Yet the one thing she wouldn’t share was her feelings for him. He’d blurted out his feelings, clearly a mistake, yet she had barely acknowledged his words.

  All this time he thought that they were together, learning about each other, making mistakes along the way—like any couple. Yet where it mattered, where feelings were involved, Peggy was holding back.

  She’d given him no indication that she had changed her attitude toward him and his feelings for her. Sure, she enjoyed the fun of going out, the excitement, but when it came time to share real feelings, she hadn’t responded.

  What if she wasn’t capable of committing to him, of wanting a real relationship? She’d been the one to suggest that he wasn’t ready for commitment because of his impulsive behavior, his willingness to jump into a situation and damn the consequences. She’d made him feel on the defensive about his way of deciding things. But tonight he’d made it utterly clear how he felt about her, and she’d maintained her silence where her feelings for him were concerned.

  What was going on? He didn’t want a relationship where he spent his time second-guessing how she felt about him. Life was too short. His mother had taught him that after his father died. He had so much more he wanted to experience, to enjoy and explore. He had so much to offer someone who loved him as much as he loved her.

  He unlocked the door to his apartment and went into the empty space. Glancing around at the counters piled with dirty dishes and a sink full of pots, he sighed in resignation.

  “Well, MacPherson, the joke’s on you,” he said, opening the dishwasher door to the clanking sound of a frying pan hitting the floor, the one he’d stuffed out of sight in there earlier before Peggy arrived.

  He picked the frying pan up and began to load the dishwasher. “Might as well make the best of things,” he muttered into the room.

  CHAPTER TEN

  PEGGY MANAGED TO get through the next day, despite the memory of Rory’s arms around her, his confession of love. Then his statement that he shouldn’t have said those words had knocked her world sideways.

  Did he really mean what he said about making a mistake? They’d been having such a good time. Enjoying each other. She’d assumed by the way he was behaving that they’d end up making love before the night was out. She’d assumed so many things. All of them wrong.

  She’d been waiting for a man to say he loved her, to be kind, sweet and caring like Rory. She loved him, yet she’d said nothing about her feelings for him. He’d opened his heart to her, and she’d rebuffed him by her silence. She was torn between being glad she’d said nothing and feeling that if she’d responded differently, told him the truth, the evening would have ended so much better than it had.

  When she got home from work, her house felt so empty, so lonely. When she went out to look after Zeus and Suzie, they seemed sad. When she saddled up Zeus and went out for a ride, his slow, almost lumbering gait was in stark contrast to his usual spirited behavior. It was as if he didn’t really want to take her for a ride.

  Back at the house she tried to concentrate on washing down the wainscoting in the dining room, her latest house project. She’d begun cleaning the wood in the dining room while she searched the internet for the perfect vintage wallpaper. She’d already cleaned the beveled glass in the three windows at the end of the room. Normally, doing this sort of work was relaxing and fulfilling. But after an hour she gave up, put her cleaning things away, and turned on the TV. Anything to stop the remorse she felt over what had happened. Yet she couldn’t concentrate on any program long enough to get the story in her head. The evening news was too depressing, and there were no movies she wanted to watch.

  Nothing seemed to distract her from the truth. Somehow she and Rory hadn’t been able to communicate, and it was mostly her fault. She let her own misgivings get in the way of facing reality. Despite her concerns about his impetuousness, she loved Rory. He’d been really kind, sweet and loving; everything she wanted. Thanks to her own insecurities, she’d probably never see him again.

  Why hadn’t she told Rory the truth about her feelings? Why was she so sure that he would say he loved her on a whim? Was she afraid his words were said too easily, before she had a chance to sort out her own feelings? Had her mother’s lack of honesty made her distrustful of everyone’s motives? Her chest pained at the thought of how her relationship with her mother had become one of sadness rather than what it once had been. She’d grown up believing that her mother would always love her, do what was best for her. How wrong she’d been about that.

  As she stared at the TV, she wondered how long she would continue letting her mother’s behavior influence her life. She’d intentionally not been in touch with her mother until a few days ago, and yet everything she did was influenced by her relationship with her mother. She didn’t trust people because her mother had lied to her.

  Well, maybe not lied exactly, but simply hadn’t told her the truth until she’d been forced to. Yet the result was the same. Peggy didn’t trust people to be emotionally honest with her. Her relationship with Rory had paid the price for her lack of trust.

  She tossed the TV remote on the sofa in frustration. What should she do? She couldn’t just go to Rory and confess her love for him. First, it was too risky. He might simply laugh at her sudden change of heart, disbelieve her and humiliate her. Second, she didn’t have any right to involve herself in his life. What had started out as a beautiful opportunity for a relationship had turned into an uncomfortable silence.

  A flash of headlights across the room where she sat made her jump. Had Rory decided to come and see her? Was it her father? But he’d promised to call first...

  She recognized Sherri’s car when she went to the door. When Sherri and Gayle got out of the car and crossed the gravel drive, she ran to greet them. “I didn’t know you were coming, but I’m sure glad you’re here.”

  Sherri and Gayle hugged her. “We came to see how you’re doing and to offer some unsolicited advice,” Sherri said.

  Gayle held up a bag from the local bakery. “First we need a cup of coffee to go with these cinnamon rolls.”

  “I think I can manage that,” Peggy said leading the way into the house and out to the kitchen. “I’ve been trying to get some housework done, but I guess I’m not in the mood.”

  “Would that have anything to do with your date last night?” Sherri asked.

  Peggy nodded. “A whole lot to do with it, actually. Sorry I didn’t tell you about the date.”

  “Yeah, we waited for you at coffee this morning. When you didn’t show, we figured that something had happened last night,” Gayle said.

  “By the look on your face something went really, really wrong. So, let’s have it,” Sherri said.

  “Rory loves me.”

  “What!” Gayle yelled out, nearly spilling her full cup of coffee.

  Sherri clapped her hands. “That’s great. The other night at dinner I knew there was something big going on. The looks you were giving each other were way too hot for just friends.” Sherri gave Peggy a quick hug, making her feel even guiltier. “Neill says he’s a real nice guy, and you have been waiting for someone like Rory.”

  “It’s true, but somehow the evening didn’t end up all that great. It’s partly my fault,” she confessed. “When he told me he loved me, I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. He took it the wrong way.”

  “Of course he would. When a man tells a woman he loves her, he expects an answer.”

  “I didn’t give him the answer he was looking for.”

  “Do you love him?” Sherri asked.

  “Yes. I’ve waited all this time for the right man. He comes along and I blow it.”

  Sherri’s eyes were damp. “Everyone gets it wrong at least part of the
time. Look at Neill and me back a few months ago.”

  Peggy shrugged, feeling frustrated with how she’d reacted, wishing she could do the evening over again. “I spent my time mentally going over all the reasons I shouldn’t love him, while he waited for me to say something.”

  Gayle’s eyebrows shot up behind her mass of dark curls. “Shouldn’t love him? Are you serious?”

  Sherri wagged her finger at Peggy, a triumphant smile on her face. “I don’t see the problem. Do you still think he’s hiding something big, something from his past?”

  “No. He told me something last night that explains at least partly why he’s been distant at times.”

  “So?” Gayle asked.

  Peggy knew that Rory had told her his story in confidence, and she would respect that. It was the least she could do. “His work in Haiti was very difficult.”

  Sherri glanced at Gayle. “So, no hidden wife? No hidden baby?”

  Peggy remembered the look on Rory’s face just before she left his apartment. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.”

  “Why not?” Gayle asked.

  “Because he told me he loved me. He was expecting me to say something in return. I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

  Sherri pushed her plate with the cinnamon roll on it to one side. “Okay. You’re going to tell us everything about last night. Do not leave out any details. You care about this guy, and we’re here to get your love life on track.”

  Peggy couldn’t help but smile. She turned to Gayle. “You said she was a notorious matchmaker. Now I understand what you’re saying.”

  Gayle gripped her coffee cup with both hands. “Don’t try to change the subject. I’m with Sherri on this. Confession time.”

  Peggy took her time telling them about the date, about how much she’d enjoyed being with Rory. She told them about the meal he’d made, his ‘60s music. The slow dancing she had hoped would lead to his bedroom. She told them everything but the details of the incident in Haiti.