by M. Leighton
“But I won’t always be around, Momma. And I don’t want you to be sad.” Her heart is in her eyes. She’s truly worried about this. About me. About what would happen to me if she weren’t here.
I stroke her smooth, cold cheek. “Don’t you worry about me, baby girl. It’s my job to worry about you. Not the other way around.”
She stares deep into my eyes, her young mind spinning with thoughts I’ll probably never understand. “Momma?”
“What, sweetpea?”
This whole conversation is terrifying me. I’m resisting the urge to drag her into my arms and hold her so tight that she becomes a part of me, the way she was when I carried her for almost nine months.
“Will you promise to try?”
“To try what?”
“To be happy when I’m in heaven.”
“Emmy–”
“Mom!” she snaps desperately.
“Emmy, what on earth is this about?”
“Promise!”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve never outright lied to my daughter. Until today. I make a promise that I have no hope of ever being able to fulfill. “I promise.”
She pats the back of my hand with her own, a gesture far too old for someone so young.
“But that’s a promise neither of us has to worry about. You’re meant to be right here with me, Emmaline Sage. Don’t you think any different.”
Neither of us speaks on the way back to our cottage, but the air is heavy with enough emotion that we don’t have to.
EIGHT
Eden
EVIDENTLY IN MAINE, the weather can change overnight. While it was very chilly yesterday, that wind must’ve been blowing in winter, because today it’s downright cold.
Since I homeschool Emmy (mostly out of necessity because of her anxiety and our frequent moves), it’s vital that we find things to do outside of our house, wherever that might be located at the moment. Here in Miller’s Pond, I’ve used walks down the road or to the beach as our escape since the nearest town, Ashbrook, is thirty plus miles away. But now, with the weather turning, the beach is out of the question, so I find myself looking for reasons to venture to Bailey’s. Today, I decide to take Emmy out for lunch. And Bailey’s has a grill.
Jordan¸ the ever-present fixture at the everything-store, greets us from behind the cash register when we walk in.
“Well, hiya, ladies!” she says, her Northern accent shining in the way she says it. It might be even more pronounced if she weren’t slurring.
Drunk at noon?
I’m beginning to think Jordan might have a bit of a drinking problem.
“Hi, Jordan!”
Emmy, as always, hugs my legs.
“What brings you two in today? My stunning conversational skills? My incredible sense of humor? My unshakable balance?” She says the last as she pretends to walk a tightrope and nearly loses said “unshakable” balance. She laughs when she does it and I can’t help smiling. At least she’s a pleasant drunk.
“Her uncanny ability to aggravate the customers?” says Jason as he appears from behind the counter, like he so often does. Jordan gives him the stink eye, but he ignores her, smiling at me. “Hiya, Eden. Good to see you.”
“Hi, Jason.”
“I stopped by your house last Sunday. Thought I’d take you and Emmy on a picnic.”
That takes me by surprise.
He stopped by? For a picnic? Without even asking in advance?
I guessed when I first met him that Jason was a bit on the cocky side, but this is a little too…presumptuous for me. And I’m not particularly fond of it.
“Oh, uh, we weren’t there.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that.”
I laugh, feeling silly. I’m a terrible liar on the fly. I have to have time to think and plan and rehearse. Although that wasn’t a lie. But for some reason, he makes me feel like I’m on the spot all the time. Like he wants to know too much about me. It’s there in the way he looks at me and the way he follows me with his eyes.
“We went to the beach.”
He nods and, as the silence stretches on, I try to think of a good way to dissuade him from just dropping by like that. Before I have to come up with something, he gives me an opening.
“I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.”
“Oh, I don’t have a phone.”
His brow wrinkles. “Is that wise, with a child in the house?”
I can’t explain my reasons, of course, but even if I could, I wouldn’t appreciate his comment. Evidently Jordan doesn’t either.
“Because you’ve got so many kids to take care of. Idiot! Why don’t you shut the hell up and stop antagonizing my customer?”
“Your customer? The only reason you haven’t drank us into bankruptcy is because of me. I think you need to check the attitude at the door.”
“At least I don’t piss off everybody who walks in here, you asshole.”
Emmy’s hold on my leg gets tighter as their bickering escalates. “I think we’re just gonna grab a seat,” I say quietly, steering my daughter to a stool at the diner-style bar.
Their voices drop to heated hisses as I take Emmy’s jacket off and lay it across my lap. As I’m opening a menu for her to look at, Jason comes to perch on the stool beside mine.
“Did I piss you off? Seriously?” His expression seems contrite, sincere.
“It’s fine,” I reply noncommittally.
“I didn’t mean to. I swear. I was just…I was just showing some concern. That’s all. What I was going to say is that I’d be happy to get you a phone put in if you want.”
I feel Emmy’s head hit my arm, pushing it to the side to lean against my boob. It’s like she’s trying to shrink into me in order to hide. Raised voices make her anxious. And she doesn’t need any help with anxiety. “I appreciate that, but we’re in good shape.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. We just came in for a bite of lunch today. That’s all.” I add a smile so that my remark doesn’t seem rudely pointed.
“Oh right right,” he says in another colloquialism that sounds just like his sister. He slaps the bar and stands. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
He nods and turns to leave just as the door opens with a jingle, drawing every eye. In walks Cole Danzer in all his amazing, masculine, heart-stopping glory. His eyes find me immediately, holding on and refusing to let go. I feel short of breath all of a sudden, like he let all the air out of the room when he opened the door.
Seeing him again hits me like a physical blow. I haven’t laid eyes on him in a week. Since the weather has cooled off, he must be doing something else. That or he’s working inside and I just never see him come and go. And I’ve looked. Often. Believe me. But there’s never a car or truck outside, so if he is there, he must live close enough to walk over.
The thought sends thrilling fingers dancing down my spine. Just the idea that he could be that close to me…all the time…day or night…
“Hoooly shit,” Jordan mutters, probably louder than she intended to. Alcohol-induced lack of inhibition, I suppose. “Hiya, Cole.”
Cole lets my eyes go long enough to glance at Jordan and nod. Then they’re back on mine as he approaches.
I’m so absorbed in his arrival, I forget Jason is still close. “And Eden,” Jason says, bending toward me as he speaks. “I’m here if you need any help. The weather can be brutal this time of year.”
I clear my throat and drag my eyes to him, leaning away until he straightens. “I think we’ll be okay, but I know where to find you if not.”
Jason doesn’t make a move to leave. He just turns to face Cole and crosses his arms over his chest. I get the sneaking suspicion it’s his way of staking a claim or something. “How goes it, Cole?” he asks pleasantly enough. While his question is innocent, his body language says all sorts of other things that concern me. It says She’s mine, which I’m not. It says Back off, which I don’t want Cole to do. It also says I’ll
fight for her, which I’d hate. All in all, I don’t like what I’m seeing.
Cole stops a few feet away, his blue gaze flickering to Jason. He nods again. “Jason.”
The room is filled with tension. Cole’s expression is much as it always is–curiously blank. Except for the frowns he gives me sometimes, this is the face he wears most often. But it’s not his expression that brings tension to the room. It’s the way he stands in front of Jason, like he’s waiting for him to move, that gives me the sense that, despite the fact that they work together, there is no love lost between these two.
Emmy, as if she can sense the sliceable strain in the air, crawls into my lap and pops her thumb in her mouth. Cole catches the movement in his periphery and glances over at her. His rigid expression softens and his lips curl up. Just at the corners. It’s not a smile, but it must be enough for Emmy, who is peeking up at him from where she’s resting her head against my chest. I see her tiny hand rise and her fingers fold one, twice, three times in a wave.
He glances back up at Jason. No words are exchanged, but Jason shifts to the left, moving out of Cole’s way. Cole straddles a stool two down from the ones Emmy and I are sitting on. He picks up a menu as if to say that whatever else might be going on, whatever undercurrents are drowning the rest of us, are of no consequence to him.
Jason walks off without a word and Jordan makes her way around to drool over Cole, a bee drawn to his unusual brand of honey. She stares at him unabashedly, leaning one hand and one curvy hip on the bar. All she lacks is a wad of bubblegum to pop. “What can I get for you, handsome?”
Cole doesn’t even look up. “I think they were here first. Take their order, but put it on my bill.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say.
Cole shifts his beautiful blue gaze over to me, pinning me with his stare. He doesn’t speak right away. Just melts me with those eyes. “I know. But since you didn’t get your muffins…”
“But that wasn’t your fault.”
He shrugs, his eyes dropping to Emmy. He winks at her before returning his attention to his menu. I look down to find her grinning behind her thumb. What is it about him that fascinates her? I can see it on her face as plainly as I can feel it on mine.
Maybe it’s a genetic weakness that I’ve passed on to her. Like Cole-holism or Cole addiction. He seems to draw her as inevitably as he draws me.
“That’s good enough for me, girls,” Jordan chimes in. “Never argue with a gorgeous man who wants to buy you things.” She beams a bright smile at Cole, who seems not to even notice as he continues studying the menu.
I end up ordering Emmy a grilled cheese and tater tots, not sure that she’ll even eat now, and I get myself a chicken sandwich. Jordan assures me that it’s to die for and the only thing that could make it better is a bloody mary.
“I’d better not, but thanks,” I reply mildly.
“What can I get for you, Cole? Anything you see making you hungry?” she asks, unflappable in her pursuit of his attention. I’m a little embarrassed for her. I’m thankful for her sake that she seems too intoxicated to really care if she’s making a fool of herself.
“Double cheeseburger combo. To go,” he says, putting the menu back in its place and standing. “I’ll be right back.”
He walks off, heading toward the universal sign for the men’s room. Jordan and I watch him go.
“Damn that man! He’s so good at resisting my charms. I do everything but throw it up on the table for him, but…nothing. Nada.” Her sigh is exaggerated. “I’ll wear him down eventually. He’s my Mount Everest.”
“How’s that?”
“He’s the one thing I’m determined to climb on top of if it kills me.”
She winks at me and then turns to yell at whomever does the cooking, someone named Raul if I understood her correctly. Then she sashays away, whistling and swinging her hips as she picks up her covered drink cup from behind the counter. I know she’s drained it dry when I hear the straw start sucking air. I can only imagine what was in it.
She carries away the cup, disappearing into the back, probably to refill it from her own stash. While she’s gone, Cole returns from the restroom.
He slides back onto his stool and, when he speaks, it’s without even looking at me. “I heard what Jason said.”
His voice is a quiet rumble that brings chills to my arms. I don’t think it would matter what he said, or where he or when he said it. I think I’d always react to that damn voice of his.
“Oh?”
He nods. “I don’t live far. Just up the road from you. The cabin on the beach,” he explains. I know exactly the one he’s referring to. It’s the only one that actually looks like a cabin. Emmy and I have passed it each and every time we’ve walked that way. “If you need anything when the weather gets bad, come find me.”
Somehow knowing where he lives seems…intimate. I’d say many people know where this man can be found, but I’d wager that he only told a very few of them. Yet here he is, basically inviting us into his life if we have a need. I feel honored almost, like he’s gifted us with something rare and precious.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
He turns to meet my eyes. And, again, I’m held. Effortlessly yet completely. Mercilessly. I feel like I can’t look away. Or maybe that I don’t want to. As though in doing so, I’d risk losing something exquisite. I don’t know why, but it feels…important, like we are slowly building something priceless.
“I can come by and check on you when the snow comes. If you want.”
“I’d hate to put you out.”
But I’d secretly love it if you showed up at my door. Every day. Forever.
He watches me intently before he replies. He says so little, chooses every word so carefully it seems, that it makes me wonder even more about him. Makes him even more fascinating.
“It’s no trouble. I promise,” he says in his rich, gravelly voice. A chill streaks down my arms again and I shudder the tiniest bit. Enough for Emmy to notice, though. She picks up her head and looks at me. I brush several dark strands from her cheek, stuck there where she was pressed against me.
“We certainly appreciate that, don’t we, Emmy?”
She turns her big green eyes to Cole and nods, her lips curving behind her thumb again.
He nods to her just as a bell chimes from somewhere behind the window that leads to the kitchen. I still haven’t seen anyone back there, although an explosion could’ve happened a foot away and I might not have noticed. That is how this man affects me. I should probably be afraid. Only I’m not. I’m more intrigued and more…captivated than I can ever remember being. Than I ever thought I could be.
Jordan comes rushing out, tucking her presumably full cup back behind the counter. She reaches in through the window and takes a bag from a hand that appears to come from out of nowhere. Maybe Raul is just really short.
She carries it back to Cole, holding it out like it’s an invitation to a sex party. “Enjoy,” she says in her throatiest voice.
Cole nods, impervious to her efforts, and throws a bill onto the bar. “That ought to cover it. Thanks, Jordan.”
“Anytime,” she says as he stands and picks up his bag.
Then, without another word or backward glance, Cole walks right out the door. All three of us watch him go.
NINE
Eden
AS MUCH AS I love our little cottage, it must have cracks galore. It seems impossible to heat. No matter how high I turn up the thermostat, it never gets any warmer. It’s not freezing, but it’s not toasty either. Emmy and I both wear sweaters even when we’re inside.
I glance out the window as I pass on my way to the living room. It’s habit now, even though I haven’t seen Cole working across the street since the weather turned so cold. But still, I look…on the off chance…
And today, I hit pay dirt. Through the front window of the cottage diagonal from mine, I see him. My heart flutters in my chest, making me feel breathle
ss for a second.
The heat must be on over there because he’s only wearing a white T-shirt. I can just see him from the waist up, but it’s enough. It’s enough to give me butterflies and warm my cool skin. Cole is standing in front of the window with a few nails clamped between his lips, hammering something above his head. I let my hungry eyes drift over him, drift over his god-like face, over his peaked biceps, over his narrow waist. The material of his shirt has ridden up as he stretches, revealing the very last row of muscle on his chiseled abdomen. My stomach turns a flip as I imagine what that skin must feel like–smooth and hard. Probably warm. Hot even.
“What is it, Momma?”
I jump guiltily, so enthralled I didn’t hear her approach. “You scared me! What are you, a ninja-in-training?” I tease.
Emmy’s eyes light up. “Like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?” she asks.
“Even better! You’re not green and you don’t have to carry that heavy shell on your back all day. But if you want to try, maybe you could start with carrying me.” I grab her and pretend to try and climb on her back. She squeals and wiggles, so I end up tickling her instead.
“Your hands are cold,” I tell her when she runs her icy little fingers up my neck in an attempt to tickle me back. “How about a hot bath to warm you up?”
“A bath?” she asks in horror. “Ewww!” Like every other child in the world, baths rank among Emmy’s least favorite things.
“A clean little girl? Ewww!” I dance my fingers up and down her spine and she twists and turns to avoid them. “Fine. I guess I’ll have to settle for a clean and warm Momma then.”
“That sounds better,” she admits with an impish grin.
“And after that…lunch. Then school work,” I warn.
I see Emmy’s eyes roll before she turns away from me to scamper back into the living room. School work, especially since she’s homeschooled and has no playmates to soften the blow, falls right above baths on her “list of things I loathe.” Getting her to do either is like pulling teeth.
