by Jean Oram
Maria stood at the bedroom window and blindly stared outside, wondering what her future would bring beyond chores, family and routine. Would she find love again? Real love. Not what Clint thought he had.
How would she handle bumping into him around town? It was going to be so awkward.
Pulling herself out of the daze, Maria moved to the stack of finished bags outside her bedroom. She smoothed her hand over one where she’d painted a palm tree bending in the wind. Clint had revived something in her, and even if she couldn’t have him, she decided she’d keep what he’d restored within her.
With her jaw set, Maria grabbed her purse. There was one more thing she had to do before she left Indigo Bay.
She arrived at Seaside Cycles out of breath, her mind whirling with inspiration. She collected an airbrush kit from one of the shop assistants, Liam. He gave her a few tips, then watched as she tested it out. Satisfied she wouldn’t destroy the scooter, he turned her loose. She attacked the scooter, praying she didn’t mar its perfect paint job with her own additions.
Two hours later she stretched the kinks out of her back and admired her work. Not flawless by any means, but her custom painting was raw and full of life.
A deliriously happy, fat mermaid settled herself on a rock as waves crashed around her, mid-storm. She looked strong, and somehow slightly surly.
It was perfect.
And then Maria began to cry.
Out on the street, she collected herself and called the one person she knew would understand. The one person who could help her sort through the confusion and pain that was making her heart ache like it never had before.
“He said what?” Fiona said into the phone, so loudly that Maria lifted her cell away from her ear and lowered the volume. Fiona’s voice mellowed as she said to someone in the diner, “I’m on the phone. You can wait for a top-up.”
“I can call back later,” Maria offered.
“No, you called me at the diner, which means it’s important. Garfield can wait for more coffee.” She said it firmly, as though daring the old man to argue with her.
“Way to lay down the law,” Maria said with a chuckle.
“It’s the only way to handle the opposite sex. Show them who’s boss.” There was a sassy flirtatiousness to her tone, and Maria wondered what her friend was playing with. She knew things weren’t good with her husband, William, but Fiona wasn’t the type to step out on her marriage. Not even for the persistent and sweet Garfield, a man half the town was rooting for.
“Clint wants to get serious. He’s saying he knows I’m the one for him.”
“And?” There was a tremor of excitement in Fiona’s voice.
“What do you mean, and? We were supposed to be having fun, enjoying some adventures, and now he’s getting serious and acting as though I need to change my life for him.” Her voice grew louder, and she lowered it even though there was nobody sharing the empty sidewalk in front of Seaside Cycles.
“I understand,” Fiona said smoothly. “You’ve centered your life around others for a long time. You definitely don’t want anyone in your family to be inconvenienced by you taking what you want for once.”
“Exactly!” Maria said, before pausing. “What?”
“People will be inconvenienced if you follow your heart and date Clint. Your boys will have to get over the fact that you, too, have a life, and that includes having wants and needs.”
Maria shut her eyes. Her friend was twisting things around.
“Moving on is hard,” Fiona said. “I understand that. It takes courage. You know some folks will be unhappy if you follow your heart, and they’ll be unhappy if you don’t.”
Maria had a feeling her friend was talking about her own situation with her bear of a husband.
“What if you follow your heart and make everyone unhappy? And then it doesn’t even work out because you were rushing into things?” Maria said.
“Valid point. You could lose either way. But sometimes you have to take what you need and tell everyone else to go to—” There was a crash. “Oops. Dropped some plates.”
“I should let you go.”
“No, it’s fine. They’re not going to get any worse than they already are now—broken.”
“Why can’t this be easy?” Maria’s heart ached and her eyes welled with tears.
“Because you’re used to being the good wife, the good mom, the good rancher, the good friend. It’s natural for you to put others first.”
Maria sighed. She’d been hearing that a lot lately.
“Maybe it’s time to switch your priorities,” Fiona said.
“It’s not about that,” Maria said. Putting herself first would no doubt make her feel selfish and greedy.
She caught herself. That was really twisted, and she’d scold her friends if she caught them thinking that way. What was the worst that would happen if she grabbed what she wanted and let everyone deal with their own emotional fallout?
“Do you think your ex-husband agonized over dating Sophia the way you are with Clint? I bet he thought something along the lines of this being his one life and wanting to live it the way he wanted to. He decided to do what makes him happy.”
“He was a selfish jerk,” Maria said, her heart thrumming with anger. “The way he acted was completely inconsiderate.” He’d thrown so much away, caused such upheaval and hurt. She couldn’t be like that.
“He broke your heart, in order to make two hearts happy. That’s not bad math.”
“But it was wrong.” Maria winced, biting her lip to help focus her thoughts. But was it? Would she rather he’d stayed with her even though their love was gone and he was thinking about someone else? That would have been a different kind of wrong, and quite possibly more awful.
“Are you gonna take some action, or are you gonna sit at home and break your own heart as well as Clint’s because you think you don’t deserve love?”
“It’s not about deserving love.” Just saying that filled her with longing. With Clint she felt special and cherished. It was nice having someone ask what she wanted. Nice putting her needs first sometimes—even if they were frivolous and trivial.
“How do you think your grown-up boys would feel if they knew you hadn’t accepted someone’s love and had lived out your remaining days as a lonely old thing because you believed they weren’t mature enough to handle it? Did you not raise men who care about others?”
“This isn’t about them.”
“It is if you’re using them as an excuse.”
Maria sighed at the logic. How was it that Kit, Clint and Fiona were all echoing each other this week when they argued with her? Was her perspective on things really that muddled?
“I suggest you sit on that beautiful beach with a glass of wine and get yourself sorted out. Clint’s been waiting for you for a very long time, and if you push him away, he might just decide he’s going to go find love somewhere else.”
“He already did.”
“What?”
“He left.”
“I thought his flight was for tonight.”
“It was.”
“Why? Why did he change it? Was this before or after his… proclamation?”
“He didn’t say why and he changed it before.”
“Garfield! Yeah, you. No, I don’t have coffee. I’m still on the phone. Why did Clint change his flight home?”
Fiona was quiet for a moment, listening to Garfield. Then she said to Maria, “He doesn’t know. But that poor mechanic has been pining over a married woman for a decade. Pining, Maria,” Fiona said firmly. “Do you hear me? He took his chance and my guess is that you got scared and shut it down and so he retreated.”
“He didn’t just retreat. He left me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. He didn’t leave you. You know where he is.” She lowered her voice. “Maria?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s a good man.”
“I know.”
“He’ll walk out that d
oor forever and leave you your space if that’s what you ask for.” Fiona let that sink in. “So you need to sit down and think real hard about what you want and what you’re afraid of before it’s too late. You hear?”
Maria sighed in reply.
“Go get that glass of wine and think. Then call me once you’ve made your decision about this man. And know that if it’s not the right one, I’m gonna march all the way to Indigo Bay and set your head on straight.”
The firmness in her friend’s voice made Maria smile. “You’re the best friend a woman could ask for, Fiona.”
“No one can dish it like I can.” Her voice became stern as she addressed somebody on the other end of the line. “Garfield, get up off your knee. You’re being ridiculous.” She gave a worldly sigh. “I’m a married woman and my advice was for Maria, not me, not you.”
“Maybe it’s advice you should take, too,” Maria said. But the line had already gone dead, leaving her with nothing but her friend’s words repeating in her head.
Chapter 9
Several days after the state championship game Maria sat in the spacious kitchen at the Sweet Meadows Ranch, a fresh cup of peppermint tea in front of her. She wasn’t thirsty, but she liked the smell of peppermint when she was feeling out of sorts. She had boxes of tea in her miniature home out in the yard, but the idea of being alone in the cramped space felt as though it would only amplify what she was feeling right now.
She wanted to talk to Clint. She’d half expected him to come to the championship game, half expected him to show up at her door at some point. But he hadn’t, and there had been no texts, no calls.
Fiona was right. Maria had made it clear she didn’t have room for him in her life, and now he was respecting that by staying out of it.
It made her want to grab him and run away to Indigo Bay so they could return to that glorious bubble they’d created.
He was a wonderful man. His kisses divine. And she wasn’t going to kid herself any longer. Clint had been fun. He’d been exactly what she’d needed and had brought her so much joy. And to be honest, it had been refreshing having someone looking out for her for once.
Hearing the soft footfalls of sneakers, she waited for her youngest son, Ryan, to appear in the kitchen. He’d been spending more time on the ranch in the past few days, partly, she suspected, to distract himself from his own life and its ups and downs.
“Hey, Mom.” He sat at the long table. “What’s happening?”
She asked him about himself, his team, Carly, but it wasn’t long before he asked about Clint and Indigo Bay. Word of their time together had traveled quickly in Sweetheart Creek.
She dodged Ryan’s questions, giving him a “Clint and I are friends” response.
“He’s made it clear he’d like to be more than that.”
“Have you been talking to Levi?” She sat straighter and clutched her cup.
“You don’t like Clint?”
“He is a very thoughtful man who…” She clucked, catching herself. “You don’t want to hear about your mother’s love life.”
“You have a love life?”
She narrowed her eyes. No wonder so many of Ryan’s students came to him for advice. She’d seen it before and after football games, and now she understood why. He had a way about him.
“Tell me,” he said, reminding her of Clint.
“Why don’t you tell me about you and Carly instead?”
Ryan deftly tried to change the subject, just like she had. Her youngest kept his cards close to his chest, and usually was a distracted, fast-moving missile. He kept his hands in several projects at a time, his head always somewhere else. But right now he looked like he could use a cookie and a glass of milk. And maybe a hug, too.
Something had definitely happened with Carly. And seeing as the tractor was still around, she had a feeling his plan to help out the independent woman had fallen through.
Maria opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, knowing it was time to let her sons do more of their own problem solving. They were good at it.
Before she realized it, they were arguing mildly about whether men or women broke up more relationships.
“Women leave,” Ryan said.
Maria laughed. He was wrong.
She sobered quickly. Had Carly left him?
“Men leave. I guess women do, too,” she said finally. “People leave.”
Maybe it was truly that simple, just one of those facts of life. People were born. People died. Sometimes they left others. Sometimes they didn’t.
Clint hadn’t left Kay-Lynn. She’d left him.
And maybe sometimes women should leave, like Fiona, but they didn’t. Her friend kept hanging on to William, refusing to let him go, refusing to let his new attitude defeat them and their love.
“You gave it a shot with Clint, didn’t you?” Ryan asked.
“I tried, but he left,” Maria said absently, still sorting out her thoughts about Fiona and William.
“He left?” Ryan asked with a hint of incredulity.
She explained how he’d flown home early.
“So he up and went home?”
Before long they were talking about Brant and April, Cole and everyone under the sun, it seemed. Ryan reminded her so much of that little boy who’d once sought her advice. He hadn’t asked her for much in so long it broke her heart, thinking how independent her youngest had become.
Then suddenly, while she was putting her cup in the dishwasher, Ryan said, “You know he came home because Levi needed him to?”
He mentioned the tractor, but she knew that wasn’t the real reason Clint had returned. It didn’t add up. Clint had been like Fiona, steadfastly clinging to love and hope, and everything they’d built over those four days together. Plus the tractor was still out of commission, and if he’d come back early as a gesture to show he was worthy of her heart, then why hadn’t he at least called?
There was still a missing piece to the whole Clint puzzle.
“I know you worry about how Clint would fit into our lives, but do you think Dad cared when he married Sophia? Maybe you need to take care of yourself for once.” Ryan stood, such certainty in his posture. “I don’t think Clint left you, Mom. I think you’re seeing what you want to see out of fear of getting hurt.”
Her son was right, but she wasn’t sure where to go from here. She’d never had to deal with anything like this with Roy. It had always been straightforward. Never charged with such emotion.
She’d said some things to Clint that had made it clear she didn’t want him in her life.
And she had been so very wrong.
“Is Clint here?” Maria stood at the back counter and scanned the Longhorn Diner, not seeing the man in question. Christmas songs played over the speakers, and in a few days the holiday would have come and gone. She still needed to sort something out with Roy regarding Christmas Day. He and the boys had all been leaning toward having their own celebration the day after, and she kept her fingers crossed it would all work out for them. “Jenny from the shop next door said she saw him come in.”
“I know who Jenny Oliver is,” Fiona said with an amused smirk. “You just missed him.”
Maria slid onto a stool, giving the room a second glance. In one of the booths, Carly Clarke was sitting with Laura, April and Jackie. They were huddled together, chatting.
But no Clint.
“Did he get the tractor fixed?” Fiona asked.
“I don’t think so,” Maria said distractedly.
Her friend leaned against the counter. “For the record, I’m still not impressed about you not fixing things with him. But you looking for him has promise. I heard he’s going to Riverbend to pick up a part. He was in here getting coffee to go.”
Maria stood.
“He’s already long gone,” Fiona warned.
It felt like she’d been chasing him for days and was always missing him. Coincidence? Likely, but she was getting paranoid that he might be avoiding her, and she
wasn’t sure how much longer her courage would last when it came to trying to track him down to talk about things.
“Something’s up,” Maria said, feeling as though everyone had been a bit more guarded since she’d come home.
“Yeah?” Fiona’s eyebrows lifted. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure. Do you know?” She studied her friend, on the lookout for a hint or a tell.
Fiona picked up her coffeepot. “I’ve got to take the girls a top-up.”
Maria turned, surprised she was letting the topic drop. Was Fiona a part of whatever was making everyone slightly weird lately, or had Maria really shifted her perspective while away and now everything and everyone seemed different to her?
“Karen’ll want coffee.” Fiona pointed toward the town’s librarian, who’d joined Carly’s table.
The diner was fairly busy for a Wednesday, and Maria impatiently waited for Fiona to return. She finally slipped behind the counter to make a fresh pot of coffee, saying, “You never told me how the gala went.”
“Kit said there were some hiccups and drama, of course, but otherwise it went well, as did the adoption drive. They raised enough money to expand the animal shelter after a generous last-minute donation came in.”
“And your paintings on the bags were popular, I heard?”
“It sounds like they were a nice added touch.”
“And Clint’s scooter?”
Maria had to look away. “Kit said it brought in a lot.”
“I knew it would. And you heard Travis is wondering if you’ll paint a mural for the town?” Fiona asked, referring to the mayor, Travis Nestner.
“I think his triplets would do a better job of it. Or at least Donna. She’s got some creativity and talent.” His wife had designed the logo for Brant’s vet clinic, Call of the Wyld(er).
It was nice having a hobby again, but she definitely wasn’t ready to take on a mural.
Fiona perked up, saying, “Oh, there’s Clint! He’s talking with Levi.”
“What?” Maria turned to look, then spun back to the counter. She couldn’t talk to him. Not here.
