The Single Dad Next Door

by Jessica Keller

  And he stalked off across the yard.

  Chapter Eight

  The computer chair creaked as Kellen leaned back to reread the two advertisements he’d written. Maggie wouldn’t like either of them, but it wasn’t up to her—was it? She was still angry with him for hiring a designer, but Sandra Conner had already sent over some great ideas. If only he could show them to Maggie and get her opinion instead of deciding on his own.

  He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the ancient desk. What if he did care about what Maggie thought? She’d never agree with him anyway. No matter how much he wanted her to. Women not agreeing with him was becoming the norm.

  First Cynthia, who wouldn’t see reason and refused to support his decision to leave the band and start anew, and now Maggie doggedly fighting him every time he thought he was making the correct choice regarding the inn. What he wouldn’t give for someone—anyone—willing to stand beside him and promise to be there for the long haul. Be on a journey with him, instead of fighting him at every pass. Tell him his ideas and dreams weren’t worthless or doomed to fail.

  Kellen raked his fingers through his hair, pulling at the tips.

  Perhaps that was his punishment for messing up so greatly in his past. Had he followed his parents’ instructions from the get-go like his brothers, would he be happily married now? He definitely wouldn’t have his girls.

  But that was where he always got stuck—his daughters. As much as he regretted his past—his sins—he couldn’t find it within himself to regret having his girls. And he never would.

  Soon after becoming a Christian, Kellen had talked with his father about the subject, and his dad had reminded him that God was in the redemption business. In fact, he’d said that God would delight in redeeming the worst parts of him.

  God had already redeemed his sin of being intimate before marriage through the lives of his girls. But what about the other parts of Kellen’s soul? Would God ever redeem his passion for music or was that meant to be a sacrifice—forever laid down for the sake of walking with the Lord? If that was the price, Kellen would pay it. Willingly. He already had done so. And if that was what God wanted, Kellen would leave his love of music on the ground along with his desire for a family for his girls like the one he grew up in. After everything, he didn’t deserve a wife. His past sins would cost his daughters a mother forever.

  That was something he’d have to learn to live with.

  A shadow passed across his computer screen. He swiveled in the chair to see who had walked by the open office door.

  Maggie stood in the doorway with a plate in one hand and a large cup in the other. She offered him a small, friendly smile, and although she’d pulled back her curls in a low ponytail, a few strands had worked their way loose to frame her face.

  In the past week he’d stopped seeing her hair as wild and unruly. It fit her personality perfectly. Carefree. The word had not struck him as positive until recently. Before, carefree had been his band members shirking responsibilities.

  When it came to Maggie, she was exactly who she appeared to be. If she was angry with him, Kellen knew it. If she was enjoying herself, she wore her joy for everyone to see. If she was worried, there was no way to miss it. She threw herself into her tasks yet knew when to cut loose and declare it was time for a dance party in the kitchen with the girls. She didn’t seem to care if someone thought she was being silly or strange. So many of the women he’d known in LA were concerned with what everyone thought of everything they did. Maggie wasn’t like that. It was refreshing. Not to mention a great influence on his girls.

  “Evening.” He nodded.

  “I thought you might be hungry.” She lifted the plate, indicating it was for him. “The girls and I tried a few new recipes and they wanted to eat. We tried to wait for you.”

  “I know.” He let his head drop against the back of the chair. “You were in here twice telling me to come to dinner and I kept working. I should have stopped what I was doing.”

  Maggie tentatively crossed the room and handed him the plate. She’d stacked enough food to feed two grown men. Heat wafted from two perfectly browned pork chops. They were covered in a cream sauce that smelled of garlic. Beside the pork chops was a large scoop of a warm casserole. Spinach, chicken and gooey cheese. The rest of the plate was taken over by three large biscuits. Kellen breathed deeply. She’d made the biscuits once before. They had cheddar folded into the batter and rivaled the ones served at most seafood restaurants. Correction: not rivaled—they were better.

  “Wow. Thank you.” He laid the plate on the desk and fought the urge to dive into eating right away. “What all do we have here?”

  “Just some pork chops with a little different seasoning than I usually use, and this is a chicken Florentine casserole that I tried for the first time. You’ll have to let me know what you think. I’m on the fence about it.” She handed him the cup she’d been holding on to.

  He glanced down at the liquid. Sun tea, probably mint. She’d made some a few days ago and he’d told her how much he liked it.

  “Thank you.” Kellen swallowed hard. “If it tastes half as good as it smells, then these recipes are keepers.”

  No one had ever taken care of him before or thought to look out for him. With his being the youngest, it had always been him doing things for his brothers. Then with Cynthia it had been about what she could gain by being attached to him. His daughters being so young, it was Kellen who had to think of how to meet their needs on his own.

  “That’s sweet to say, but you worked at a five-star restaurant. I’m sure you’re used to the best.”

  “Everything you’ve made is ten times better than what we served there. Restaurant food isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “If you say so. Well, I’m going to tidy up the kitchen. I let the girls borrow my video camera and they’re making a movie dancing to their favorite songs. My women’s small group meets tonight, so I’m going to head out in about a half hour. Just make sure to lock up if you guys head to the cottage before I get home.” Maggie turned to leave.

  Did Maggie ever sit down and relax? She probably couldn’t after managing the place on her own for so long. At least he could ease her load a little. Who stopped to take care of Maggie? No one whom he’d seen so far. But Kellen could. In fact, he would tell her his idea now. That way she’d know going forward that she wouldn’t have to shoulder everything alone anymore.

  “Maggie, wait. I wanted to talk with you.”

  “Weren’t we talking already?”

  “I mean about more than food. About the inn.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip and studied the floor.

  “I just emailed an ad to run in the newspaper this weekend. I’m going to hire someone else to help around here.” He smiled at her, waiting to watch the relief wash over her features.

  Her head snapped up, eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “What?” He rocked forward in the chair. “No. Why would you think—”

  She crossed her arms. “You don’t think I do a good job here? What needs to be done differently? If you tell me what you want me to focus on, I can just—”

  “Maggie.” Kellen was on his feet, crossing the room. He cupped his hands over her shoulders. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “I don’t need help. I ran this place just fine before you came along.” She ducked away from him and backed into the hallway. “Excuse me. I should go.”

  “Maggie.” He called after her, but she had already charged up the hallway and closed her bedroom door.

  Kellen grabbed the plate and cup and headed to the kitchen, where he could keep an eye on Skylar and Ruthy. He didn’t feel like working anymore tonight. A moment later the front door eked open and then slammed closed. Maggie never used the front door, but of course she would ton
ight, since he was sitting in the room with the back door.

  So much for attempting to help. He’d try not to make that mistake again.

  * * *

  Locking the combination on her bike lock, Maggie scanned the parking lot. Despite leaving the inn earlier than she’d planned to, it looked as though everyone had beaten her to the church.

  She climbed the front steps, tracing her fingertips over the wooden railing. The setting sun’s last light blazed against the white-painted building. Inside, the church still boasted a new car smell. Goose Harbor had lost the original building in a fire just before Maggie’s twentieth birthday. Her friend Shelby Beck, who’d been injured in the fire as a young teenager, had recently championed to rebuild the church. They’d held an opening ceremony a month ago.

  Unfortunately it hadn’t been ready for Ida’s funeral. Ida would have loved seeing the church made new.

  Maggie hugged Ida’s Bible to her chest.

  Her dear old friend had reveled in God’s making long-desired dreams come to pass. Ida always encouraged Maggie to hold out for God’s best and promised that God had a plan for Maggie’s life that would exceed her expectations. The elderly woman had been wrong on that point. Always positive, but Maggie had learned that could be a bad thing. Sometimes hope was dangerous because it ate at the soul like termites on an old home.

  Instead of spending the past few years dreaming, Maggie should have been focused on being content in her circumstances. Or at least she should have been planning for a way out instead of trusting that God would work out a way to take care of her. Always trusting the best. A best that never came.

  Kellen was set on hiring another person for the inn. No doubt it would be someone with actual experience running a business. Someone far more organized and qualified than Maggie. Oh, sure, he’d keep her around for another month or two. Let her train the new person. Then what? Send Maggie packing? She couldn’t tell him she had no money and no place to go. Never that.

  Downstairs, Maggie located the room she’d heard the small group would use to meet in. Shelby had painted it a calming mocha color and given it cream accents. Plush chairs set in a half circle made for an ideal sharing space.

  Paige Beck spotted Maggie first and came running across the room. “I’m so happy to see you. It’s been too long. For such a small town, you’ve been hard to find.” Paige pulled her into a tight hug. For a petite woman, her blonde friend harbored a lot of strength.

  It was strange, how Maggie and Paige had become best friends so quickly. Paige was married to Caleb Beck—one of Maggie’s childhood friends. He had once been Maggie’s brother-in-law when Sarah was still living. She was happy that Caleb had found love again, but sometimes—in the deep places she didn’t often acknowledge—it hurt seeing them together. It made her ache for a future that was long out of her grasp.

  Oh, sure, there had been Alan. But he hadn’t really been a viable choice. She should have known that selling his paintings at the local art gallery and fairs wouldn’t have kept him satisfied for long. Alan had dreamed of his own studio. People paying thousands for a single painting. Even if he’d started his own shop off the main square, he’d never have been able to achieve that. He tried for a few years, and one of his paintings even hung in a guest room at the inn, but his ambitions had been beyond Goose Harbor.

  Maggie hugged her back. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Truth be known, Maggie missed the days when Paige had lived at the inn. It had been for only the first half of a school year, but Paige quickly became a sister to her.

  Jenna caught her eye and patted a seat beside her. “I saved this one for you.”

  Maggie knew most of the women in attendance. Paige had brought along Bree and Amy, both also teachers at Goose Harbor High School. Maggie didn’t know them well, but they’d always been polite. Everyone milled near a table that held cookies and drinks, catching up on life. But Maggie held back.

  They would ask how she’d been since Ida passed away. They thought she owned the inn, so none of the women would have an inkling of Maggie’s constant panic about losing it. No one would be able to understand the torment she felt in regards to the new owner. Sure, Maggie worried about the day that Kellen would tell someone he was the new owner and word would get out around town. But it hadn’t happened yet. The second it did, Maggie would start getting calls and questions from people. Really, she should tell her friends before that happened.

  What if they peppered her with questions about Kellen and she didn’t know how to answer them? Kellen confused her. One minute she was butting heads with him and moments later she felt drawn to his kind and helpful spirit.

  Sometimes Maggie believed that, as Ida had always promised, everything would work out for the best— including Kellen owning the West Oaks Inn. But then the rational side of her took over and knew for certain that nothing good would come of it. Kellen wanted change, and getting rid of her might be one of his “needed improvements” down the line.

  Shelby Beck, Caleb’s younger sister, made her way to the front of the room. “If you all can find an open seat, I’m going to get us started tonight. Thank you for coming. I’m so happy to see you all here for our first meeting. I think everyone knows each other besides Kendall.” Shelby offered a wide smile to a woman with long chocolate hair sitting in one of the front seats. “She’s new in town, so make sure to say hi to her afterwards.”

  Years ago, Shelby had been burned in the fire that totaled the original church in Goose Harbor. She’d spent many years since then covering the scars on her arms, back and legs. But lately, since she’d started dating fireman Joel Palermo, Shelby hadn’t seemed so worried about letting people see her scars. Tonight she wore capri pants, kitten heels and a sleeveless top. It wasn’t that warm outside, but perhaps she was making up for so many years of hiding. Maggie never understood why Shelby had thought that people wouldn’t still care about her or want to be around her if they knew about the scars. The burns hadn’t changed who Shelby was.

  “I have one update before I put in our video for today.” Shelby took a deep breath. “You all are the first I’m telling this to, but we’re in our last stages of interviewing candidates for the position of pastor. We should be making a selection within the next week or two. Okay, now on to the video.” Shelby pushed a button on the remote she held and then walked to the back of the room to shut off the lights.

  The woman speaking on the video lesson talked about the importance of letting God build a home within their hearts. That the earth and things of the world would all pass, but God and the eternal things would remain. Might as well call the message Maggie, Give It Up About the Inn Already.

  Maggie ripped her napkin into strips and piled the pieces on her empty plate.

  Shelby flipped the lights back on and carried a Bible with her to the front of the room. “That was really challenging to hear, wasn’t it? While she was speaking, a verse kept coming to my mind and I’m going to share it with you.” The pages on her Bible crinkled. “Here we go. Romans 5:5, ‘And hope does not put us to shame, because—’”

  “Sometimes it does.” The words came out so quickly and automatically, Maggie had no time to cover them. Heat raced its way across her cheeks.

  Shelby set down her Bible, her eyebrows diving. “Do you have something you want to talk through, Maggie?”

  “No. I’m sorry. It’s okay.”

  Jenna grabbed Maggie’s hand. “She’s right. I know it’s not the popular opinion, but more often than not I’ve found that hope does put us to shame. There are things I hoped...dreamed...” Jenna shook her head and looked away.

  Maggie slowly made eye contact with each woman in the room. Could she trust them with the truth? They would find out eventually. Better to hear it from her now.

  Would they think she was a failure? Maggie was easily five years older than the next o
ldest person in the room. She should have her life together—the way they all seemed to. Well, besides Jenna, but Jenna was young. She had time to work through any issues. Whereas life was quickly passing Maggie by.

  Maggie took a fortifying breath. “I may lose the inn. Well, honestly, I already have.”

  Paige tilted her head. “What do you mean? Is it money—”

  She had to get the information out all at once or else she’d lose all her courage. “I haven’t owned the mansion in years.” She had to launch ahead before the questions started. “After my mother and grandmother passed away, there wasn’t much money left over. I’d made some poor choices with some of it.” If she could take back Alan, she would. She’d never waste a minute on him, let alone money. “And my mother’s experimental treatments had drained us of most of the savings before that. It’s expensive to manage a house that size. I loved my old job at the diner, but I couldn’t handle the mansion’s bills.”

  Paige leaned over and took her other hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

  “There were so many medical bills even after my mother’s death. Then there were maintenance things that hadn’t been done to the house in a long time. I ran through most of the money just with upkeep. Do you know how much it costs to heat that place?” She shuffled her feet. “Anyway, I got to the point of needing to sell my home but was having a hard time coming to terms with leaving the house that’s been passed down in my family all these years.”

  “Understandably.” Jenna’s smile was soft and sad. Her father’s orchard had been in the Crest family for a long time, too. Jenna got it.

  “Ida Ashby found out and offered to buy the place. We did it without telling anyone besides her lawyer, and Ida paid for everything after that.”

  Someone gasped.

  Maggie plunged ahead. “Ida let me live there and manage it. She let people believe it was mine. But I have no claim to it.”