by Karen M Cox
“So what made you decide to tell me? What changed your mind?”
“Three things: one, I overheard him talking last night to one of his friends about how being ‘settled’ couldn’t hurt his standing with his colleagues. Two, he told Neil all about how he was ‘helping you with your little project.’ Then I knew it was just the same old sleazy Cooper talking.”
“And three?”
“Three, you just told me you weren’t sleeping with him, which probably shows pretty good judgment on your part.” She took a sip of coffee. “Oh wait, there’s another reason . . . ”
“Yes?”
“I saw you talking to James Marshall” — her voice boomed like an emcee’s — “Most Eligible Bachelor of Silicon Valley.” She fanned herself. “Oh my, he’s a much better deal than Cooper Edwards on all counts: young, rich, smart, single, and good-looking too. That strong jaw and those stormy green eyes. So serious — mm-mm, sexy!” Adrienne was teasing her, and she enjoyed the embarrassed reaction she was getting. “I bet he’s a firecracker in bed.”
“He is,” Laurel said in a dreamy voice before she caught herself.
Now, Adrienne sputtered her drink. “He is? He is?!” She lowered her voice to an excited whisper, “Girl, are you getting some of that hunky millionaire on the side?”
“No!” she looked around, mortified. “I’m not sleeping with him either.”
“But you said . . . ”
Laurel just looked at her and rolled her eyes. Adrienne’s eyes and mouth opened into big round O’s. “You have a history? With James Marshall? Wait . . . Ohmigod! He’s ‘Jim Dandy’ isn’t he? That guy you were so sprung on freshman year? The guy who called you every Tuesday night at 8 p.m. without fail? I knew I recognized the name! Laurel! Holy shit! And now he’s back here making goo-goo eyes at you across crowded rooms. Why on God’s green Earth are you sitting here having breakfast with me instead of him? What are you waiting for?”
Laurel sighed, exasperated. “I’m waiting for him to quit running off all the time so I can tell him how I feel about him.”
“Ooohhh.” Adrienne leaned back and sipped her coffee. “Okay, girl, spill. I think you need some advice, or at the very least, you need to think this one out loud. Come on, tell Auntie Adrienne your troubles” — she gave Laurel a genuine, helpful smile and patted her hand — “so we can figure out how to fix them.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Laurel was in the Phoenix Fire packing the remainder of her pottery and equipment. Her family had offered to help, but she liked doing this part on her own, making sure everything was secure. The gallery was quiet except for the occasional passerby. The bustle of the craft fair was over, and it was time to return to real life.
Talking with Adrienne had been a godsend. Strange how people moved in and out of her life, leaving an imprint on her that could shift her thoughts in a completely new direction. That morning it had happened again. Adrienne had made her face the truth and, more importantly, had helped her see her options. She now had a choice to make: She could passively wait for whatever life might hand her, or she could make plans to shape her own destiny. The more she thought about it, the more she was inclined to choose the latter option. As Adrienne had said so eloquently earlier, “There is a time to wait on Fate and a time to seize the day.” So that night when Laurel got home, she would think and plan, and the next day she would begin the journey that would lead her to happiness.
She heard the door open and the bell chime. Footsteps on the stairs announced that she had a visitor, but he spoke before she could turn around.
“Laurel dear, I’m sure we can find someone to do this for you.”
She huffed in a burst of irritability and disappointment before she turned around. “Hello, Cooper. How are you today? Me, I’m fine — thank you for asking. And there’s no need to take anyone else away from their work to do mine. I can manage by myself.”
His eyes widened, taken aback by the unusual display of sarcasm, but then a distracted smile crossed his face. “Are we a bit tired after all the excitement?”
She turned back to her crate and continued packing. “I am ready to go home, I suppose.”
“My little homebody — so domestic.”
She wriggled her shoulders to shake the unpleasant feeling his words elicited in her. She had Cooper to thank for this opportunity, and she tried to force herself to remember that and not overreact to his condescending remarks.
“You’ve done well this weekend. I spoke with Neil earlier, and he’s very pleased.”
“It’s more than I’ve ever sold at one event. And that is pretty exciting.”
“You’re well on your way to great success.”
“We’ll see.”
“You’re going to the top. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Cooper . . . ” she began.
He crossed the room and held out his hands to her. “Come over here and sit for a minute. I have something to tell you.” He led her to a bench and sat down beside her. She pulled her hands away, and he laid his own awkwardly in his lap before finally settling them on his knees.
“When you get back to Uppercross, I think we should give some serious thought to your moving a little closer to civilization — up toward Lexington, perhaps.”
“What?” she asked, incredulous. “I can’t leave Uppercross. For one thing, I don’t have the money. For another, Mom and Dad need me; you know I do Dad’s books for the marina.”
“I’ve already spoken with your father about it, and he approves the idea. I can help you with your finances while you settle into an apartment of your own.”
Laurel sat speechless.
Cooper smiled. On the surface, it was his familiar, oily smile, but underneath she could sense something else, something real — almost like . . . nervousness?
“I have an ulterior motive for moving you closer to the college. I intend to get to know you better because I think there’s a future for us, Laurel Elliot.”
“But Cooper,” she blurted out, “I don’t feel like . . . that . . . about you.”
He looked a little shaken, but he went on anyway. “Perhaps . . . no . . . You’re far too sensible to jump into a commitment right away. I understand that.”
Commitment? Where did that come from? No wonder people think we’re sleeping together!
Laurel closed her eyes, searching for the right words. “Dr. Edwards, I don’t know what I’ve done to lead you into believing we have that kind of relationship, and I’m truly sorry if you thought we did, but I’m not interested in being the latest in your long line of women friends.” That was the most polite way she could think of to say it.
His face clouded. “I can imagine what you must have heard. I know how people talk about me, and unfortunately, there was some truth to those stories at one time. I’ve certainly made mistakes, but I’ve changed, Laurel.”
She shot him a skeptical look.
“No, really. Things are different with you and . . . you could make me different too. I’m ready for this.”
“For what exactly?”
“If we were together, you’d never have to worry financially. I’d take good care of you. We have interesting conversations, a lot in common, really — in spite of the difference in our ages. You’re so lovely, so unspoiled . . . ” He reached out to touch her cheek, and she instinctively drew back. He dropped his hand.
“You’re an intriguing woman with so much depth and talent and such a kind heart. Are you really surprised that a man with some maturity would appreciate those qualities and find you attractive?”
“I don’t think I could ever . . . love you, Cooper.” The words love and Cooper in the same sentence sounded bizarre rolling off her tongue.
“Do your reservations have anything to do with that guy who came to see you last night? Your father did tell me you two had an adolescent tryst of some kind.”
Laurel felt the sting of her father’s betrayal — to tell such a private thing about his
own daughter to someone like Cooper Edwards! What could he have been thinking?
“I guess I can’t blame you for taking a second look. I mean, he does have plenty of cash these days.”
“That’s not why — ”
“And he’s a good-looking kid. I suppose there’s some appeal in that.” Cooper’s patronizing smile appeared, but then he grew more serious. “However, you need to be realistic. The past is gone; you can’t rewrite it, and you can’t resurrect it. No one knows that better than I. Look ten years into the future. James Marshall is so different from you — different interests, different lifestyles. He lives in a world of machines . . . and commerce. Didn’t you once tell me you were no businesswoman?”
“Yes, but — ”
“Young men like him are shallow and impulsive. He’ll tire of you. As the years go by, you’ll have to fight off progressively younger and younger women who’ll be after his money. I’ve seen that kind of thing happen time and again.”
Laurel’s eyebrows rose in shock. Cooper was certainly pulling out all the stops to convince her. And then he said the thing that made everything click into place.
“In time, you would learn to love me. Think about how pleased your parents would be to know you’re cared for — to know you’re safe and sound.”
She smiled — a sad smile that was the result of going through heartbreak and back more often than she could count with the people she loved. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in life,” she said in soft voice, “it’s that there’s no such thing as safe and sound — for any of us.” She stood up and took a step back. “Cooper, I am grateful to you for the help you’ve given me with my career and for your friendship to my dad and me, but gratitude isn’t love, and love is what I’m holding out for.”
He sat back, eyes wide with disbelief, and then bitterness crept across his features. “Well, I guess I have my answer.” He stood and walked toward the staircase. Pausing at the top, he turned back and said, “But I think you’re making a mistake, Laurel, and I’m afraid you might live to regret it.”
A brief flash of panic raced through her, but she had lived the last eight years with regrets, and she had made it through somehow. A life without Cooper could never be more difficult than the eight years of loneliness and the roller coaster of emotions she had experienced since James Marshall had roared back into her life. Regardless of what happened to her next, she knew she would be intact at the end of it.
“Even if I end up alone, I have to try for the life I want and the love I deserve. Anything else is living a lie, and I won’t do that. I can’t.”
He looked at her a long minute. Then he shrugged and continued down the stairs. His voice floated up to her from below. “Good-bye, Laurel.”
* * *
While they loaded the truck, Laurel told Crosby the gist of her conversation with Cooper.
“Stick close if you don’t mind, Crosby. I’m mad as hell right now at Dad and kinda miffed at Cooper, and I don’t want any kind of confrontation with either of them while I’m feeling like this.”
“I understand. Dad shouldn’t have shared your personal business; that’s for damn sure. And Cooper must have fed the gossip about the two of you. At the very least, he didn’t say anything to quell the rumors.”
“If James heard that tripe, maybe that was why he made such a hasty exit last night.” One more reason to put Cooper on my bad list.
There had been many times in her life when Laurel felt naïve about how the world really worked. This was one of them. What a sheltered life she’d led at Uppercross Hollow! How could she lead a man like Cooper Edwards on and not even know it? Or was he just so sure of himself that he never considered she’d say no?
Crosby was indignant when she told him what Cooper had said about James, his money and her. “He doesn’t know the first thing about you, Sis, if he believed any of that crap he was spouting off. What a jackass! I knew there was something wrong with that guy and so did Spring, remember? She was right when she said he ‘skeeved’ her out.”
“Yep, she sure was right — out of the mouths of babes.”
“What are you going to say to Dad? Do you think he’ll ask you about any of this?”
Laurel sighed and rubbed her temples. “That’s a tough one. I still can’t believe Dad would interfere in my life like that. Our Dad — the ‘find yourself, do what you love, explore the world’ free spirit who named his sons after singers and his daughters after flowers. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Dad’s been different lately — like he’s starting to realize all that freedom he told us to find costs too much, and he’s trying to backtrack and do things over.”
“But there are no do-overs in life. Not really.”
Her brother studied her for a second. “I want your word, pinky-swear, that you’ll stand up for yourself if he tries to run your life again or if Creeper Edwards doesn’t leave you alone and keep his mouth shut. I got your back, sister — and so do Dylan and Spring and Ginny and Stuart— and I bet underneath all that meddling, Dad does too if it came right down to it.”
She hugged him and held out her hand, her little finger crooked in a C. “Thank you. I will stand up for myself, pinky-swear.”
Crosby hooked his pinky with hers. “Although maybe Cooper was on the level. Maybe he really was trying to mend his ways like he said. I mean, it’s not like you were all alone in the world and susceptible to his bullshit.”
“It’s possible he was serious, and in that case, I guess I’m a little sorry for him, but I’m just not interested. I hope this doesn’t hurt his friendship with Dad. He seems to enjoy talking with Cooper, and I would hate to deprive him of that.”
“Have you considered that it might be Cooper who deprives Dad of his friendship since you didn’t fall in line?”
She frowned. “Well now, I have no control over that.”
“I know. I wasn’t trying to suggest that you put up with him. I’m just glad he didn’t get his hooks into you.”
“Me too, although there was never too much danger of it anyway.”
Crosby grinned. “Not after hot-stud Marshall started prowling around the place again.”
She gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Stop it, you!”
He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close for a one-armed bear hug. Then he kissed her temple. “I hope . . . ”
“Yes?”
Crosby shrugged. “I just hope. That’s all.”
Chapter 25
Laurel peered into the dim bedroom that was her mother’s sanctuary. The sun was shining outside, but the shades were drawn, and any light inside came from the television. Cross-stitch, yarn, and sewing projects were lined up around the walls, perched on top of each other.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Elliot cleared off a chair and put the pattern pieces in a stack after a few seconds’ careful consideration. “I’ve got some more things ready to go to that craft fair down in Gatlinburg next month. Some Christmas items: aprons and sweaters and such. Didn’t you say there was a big market for Christmas things down there at this time of year?”
“I did say that, but I’m not sure I’m still going to Gatlinburg next month.”
“Not going? But don’t you do a lot of business down there?”
“Yes, as a rule, but I may have something else in the works that I’ll need to concentrate on.” Laurel pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her mother.
Mrs. Elliot turned on a lamp and read through it, lips moving with the words. She looked up at Laurel with wide eyes, dark crescents underneath them. “This is good news, isn’t it?”
Laurel beamed. “Yes, Mama, very good news. Mr. Dearinger is an expert in manufacturing. He has a lot of people working for him who know about making dishes, and he wants to talk to me about designing some patterns for his company. He’ll help me mass-produce the ones his marketing team thinks would be most popular. And the best part is, if this works out like I
think it will, I’ll still be able to design my own pottery too. It’s the best of both worlds. I can make a good living as an artist now.”
“Has your daddy seen this?”
“Yes, he’s very happy for me. I thought you would be too, so I came over to show you the proposal.”
“I am, I am.” Her mother’s face was without emotion; her eyes were without sparkle. “I’m sorry I can’t show it more. I’m afraid I’m not feeling too well today.”
“It’s okay; I understand.” Laurel felt a mild stab of disappointment, but it was about what she had expected and probably as much as her mother was capable of giving her. Laurel had other news that she wasn’t as sure her mother would be happy about.
“Mama, I have something else to tell you too.”
“Okay.”
“Do you remember James Marshall, the guy who wanted me to move away with him to Nashville when I was in college?”
“Yes, I remember.” Her mother’s look was guarded.
“Well, I caught up with him again last summer. I saw a lot of him, and he came to Asheville this weekend.”
“Oh.”
“I want to get back together with him, and I think he might want the same thing.”
“I see.”
“I still love him, Mama, and I have to find out if he loves me too.”
There was a silence.
Finally, her mother spoke softly. “So if he wants you to, you will leave Uppercross?”
“Yes. But even if I go with him, I’ll still have to come back East sometimes to meet with Mr. Dearinger’s people and, hopefully, get the pottery thing going. And I’ll still come see you and Dad as often as I can. Spring will be off at college in a few months, so you won’t need me to help take care of her anymore. I might not move right away, but given the opportunity with my pottery, I’ll probably have to eventually anyway. And I think moving might be a good thing for me, regardless of what happens with James.”
She covered her mother’s soft hand with her own and pressed it gently.
