by K. Anderson
“Moving back home isn’t the same as moving on, Erin,” Zach retorted. “Which is what you’re doing. Come on – we both know this is stupid. How many times have you told me about your mom driving you up the wall by always trying to tell you how to live your life? About how she never has time to spend with you because she’s always so focused on her job?”
“Enough,” Erin said, combing her fingers through her pixie-cut red hair in frustration. She turned to face Zach. She used to get crazy flutters in her stomach whenever she looked at him. She had been heavy into her infatuation with the Lord of the Rings movies when they first met, and thought he could pass for Elijah Wood’s twin with his big, sleepy blue eyes, dark pink lips, and all those thick, dark brown curls. She had actually been the one to pursue him, and after a month her efforts had paid off when they started dating. But that had been four years ago, when she first came to college. Once she had started to get more involved in her studies, she had found that she did not have as much time for a boyfriend as she had thought. And then there was that incident just eight months ago when she had walked in and caught Zach making out with her roommate. Dawn had since moved to another dormitory, and while Zach swore it had been a one-time thing – they had been drinking, it was the heat of the moment, and every other clichéd excuse he could give her – it had been a wake-up call for Erin.
Now she pointed at her ex. “You really need to back off and leave me alone about this, Zach. When I broke it off with you, I agreed to stay friends because we both enjoy hanging out together and doing things that have nothing to do with being boyfriend/girlfriend.” She let her arm fall back to her side. “Ever since I announced that I was moving back home, you started to pressure me about giving our relationship another chance, and I told you I don’t want that. I’m done with school, I have my degree, and I stand a better chance of finding work in Chicago if I’m living there. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that, if you have some attachment issues and can’t seem to let go, but if you want to stay friends then you are going to have to back off and stop pushing me. I also told you that I don’t know if I can trust you again after what happened with Dawn. I respect that other people have open relationships but for myself? I’m the first to admit I don’t like to share.” She returned to her packing. “Besides – we were already drifting apart. I take full responsibility for that, and realize I should have ended it before it got to the point where you started looking for attention from someone else.” She frowned, muttering under her breath. “I just thought you would have had the decency to break it off with me if you were going to start screwing around with my roommate.”
“Jesus, Erin – how many times do I have to say I’m sorry for that?” Zach demanded. “Yes, I messed up. And yes, it’s because you never seemed to have time for me anymore.” He moved in closer, reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder. Erin stiffened at the touch. He smiled, his voice softening. “I just thought maybe now that we’re both done with college, we can actually focus on making this work. We’re good friends. We were good in other ways, too. I just think we can be that way again, now that we don’t have the pressure of school to get in the way.”
“I hear what you’re saying.” With a heavy sigh, Erin reached up and pulled his hand away. “But once again, you’re not hearing me.” She looked into his eyes. “For the last four years, my life has been all about writing term papers, passing classes, and living on a campus in another part of the country from where I grew up. I need to go home, Zach. I need to go back to my roots and decompress, and then focus on where I’m going for the next phase of my life. I want to stay friends with you because I like you. I don’t want you to wait around, thinking there might be a chance of getting back together, while I’m figuring out what I want to do. It might be years before I’m ready to be in another relationship, with you or anyone else. Right now, I just want to go home. Even if you can’t understand this, if you really do care about me then please try to accept it.”
Chapter Two
It came as no surprise to Erin that her mother could not pick her up at the airport. At this early hour, she would more than likely be getting ready to start her day at Northwestern Memorial Hospital where she headed up an academic team teaching students in residency. Erin did not expect to see her mother until much later, possibly evening, depending on when she decided to pull herself away from work. Zach had been right about that particular fact: Erin’s mom could be so focused on her work that she forgot she had a home and family.
Locating a taxi, Erin climbed into the back seat, dragging her two carry-ons with her. The rest of her belongings had been shipped back home from California. She expected they would arrive today. “Adler Planetarium,” she told the driver, and settled back for the long ride. She could have just told him to take her straight to Evanston, the suburb just north of Chicago along the lakeshore. All in good time, she thought with a smile. She had taken an early morning flight for several reasons. She knew the airports would be less crowded and traffic would be less congested. On a less practical level, she wanted to see her hometown as the sun began to rise over Lake Michigan and its golden light chased away the blue-grey shadows that clung to that familiar, beloved skyline. She had always loved going downtown to watch Chicago wake up. New York might tout itself as “the city that never sleeps,” but Chicago did, and Erin had found it endearing to see it come to life every morning.
The cab reached its destination, a cluster of buildings in the neoclassical style, and Erin took a few minutes to gaze out the window at the city across the way, rising up above the harbor. She could see Navy Pier in the distance, just to the north, jutting out into the water parallel to the planetarium. Drinking it in, Erin smiled. “Okay,” she said, “can you take me to the Pancake House up on Lincoln, now?”
“Sure thing,” the driver replied, his south-side accent pronounced. “You gonna want to go anywhere else after that?”
“Eventually,” Erin said. “But I’d rather do it after I’ve had a Dutch Baby and some coffee.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I hear ya.” Turning right onto Lake Shore Drive, he headed toward the city.
A few minutes later, Erin found herself on the corner facing the old landmark diner that stood on the corner of Clark Street across from Lincoln Park. She gave the cabbie a good tip before sliding out with her bags in tow. The smells of fried eggs, maple syrup, and coffee hit her nose as she pushed through the door leading into the restaurant. It did not surprise her to find the place already busy.
“It’s going to be a twenty minute wait,” the hostess said.
A man at the table closest to the entrance twisted around to look at Erin. He smiled. “You’re welcome to share with me,” he said.
“Oh, that’s okay,” Erin said, with a polite wave. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s all right, really,” he said. “It seems a shame that I have an entire table to myself when there’s room for one more. Besides, those bags look pretty heavy – I wouldn’t feel right if you had to stand there with them until another spot opens up.” He jerked his head, the lines at the corners of his light blue eyes creasing. “Come on,” he implored. “I promise, I won’t bite.”
Erin had to chuckle at the wide grin he gave her. “Said the man with the smile that could put a shark to shame.” Shaking her head, she decided to take him up on the generous offer. Tucking her bags out of the way of foot traffic, she sat down across from the older man and reached across the table with her right hand. “Hi. I’m Erin.”
“Hello, Erin.” Folding up his copy of the morning Trib, he put the newspaper aside and clasped her fingers. “I’m Michael.” He glanced up, catching the attention of a nearby waitress carrying a pot of coffee with a jerk of his chin. “You want some coffee?”
“Love some,” Erin said. She took a moment to unzip and shoulder out of her venerable White Sox hoodie, letting it drape around her waist. She gave Michael a quick once-over with her gaze. A handsome guy, definitely older tha
n her – perhaps around forty – he had very Germanic features with his fair complexion, square jaw, high cheekbones, and light brown hair shaped into what she liked to refer to as one those Roman Centurion razor cuts. The only thing that threw her off was the slight Irish lilt to his otherwise raspy baritone. Of course, the Windy City did have as many Irish as it did Germans, as the annual St. Patrick’s Day tradition of dyeing the Chicago River a bright, almost neon green could attest. She could not help herself from watching Michael’s hands as he motioned to the waitress and then gestured to Erin. Gorgeous, Erin thought, admiring his long fingers and broad palms. She had always had a “thing” for hands. And blue eyes. Zach’s had been a darker shade, but Michael’s looked like arctic ice, cool and bright. The only thing that made her heart sink a little was the gold band Michael wore on his left ring finger. And married. Damn.
She thanked the waitress for the cup set in front of her, and reached for the cream and sugar. “I appreciate you offering to share,” Erin said, stirring in just enough half and half to turn the dark, steaming liquid a light golden color. “I just got in at O’Hare about an hour ago, and was determined to make this one of my stops before I headed home.”
“Oh?” Michael took a sip of his own coffee, swallowed and licked his lips. “You’re from here, originally?”
“Yes. You?”
“First generation born here in the States,” he said. “Well, for my mother’s side. She came over as a girl from Ireland. My father’s family has been here since the mid-1800s.”
“German?”
He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”
She wrinkled her nose and held up a hand, thumb and forefinger just a few millimeters apart. “Just a little.” He laughed and she grinned. “The Irish is a little more apparent.”
“Ah, yes.” He sighed. “The accent always gives me away.” He eyed her. “Although I’d say you’ve got a bit of the Blarney in you, as well…the bright red hair and those freckles being a dead giveaway.”
She shrugged. “And the fact that I have an Irish name, right?”
“That, too. But I’ve always believed we can spot our own.”
“I guess we can.” The waitress returned with a menu for Erin but she just handed it back. “Dutch baby for me, please.” She looked at Michael. “I’ve been craving one of those for ages.”
“I know what you mean.” He clasped his hands under his chin and stroked one thumb across the reddish stubble over his upper lip. “So, what took you away from home, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“College,” she said. “I just got my Bachelor’s. I thought about going for my PhD but wanted to take a break and come back for a while before I make that decision.”
“What’s your course of study?”
“Marine Biology. I’m going to see if I can get a job either at the aquarium, or one of the zoos.”
“Well, I might put in a good word for you,” he said. He lowered his arms, elbows resting on the table, and jerked his head toward the street-facing windows. “I work over at Lincoln Park, Behavioral Husbandry and Enrichment manager.”
Erin’s eyebrows snapped upward at this information. “Get out of here! Well, I guess the luck of the Irish is with me today, in more ways than one. Not only did I meet someone generous enough to share his table with me, it turns out we’re in a similar line of work.”
“Kismet,” Michael said, winking as he saluted her with his cup.
Their food arrived. Erin never pretended to be a dainty eater – she had a healthy appetite and dove right into anything put in front of her. The Dutch baby didn’t stand a chance. Erin pounced on that thick, pancake-on-steroids treat with unabashed gusto. She moaned around the first mouthful, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.”
“Tastes like home?” Michael asked, watching her with amusement.
She nodded. “You know it.”
Michael had ordered the standard eggs, sausage, toast, and a short stack on the side. They continued to talk as they ate, mostly about their shared interest in zoology. Michael, it turned out, worked primarily with the otters, wolves, and other animals indigenous to North America on exhibit. “I know you’ve probably got a lot of catching up to do, now that you’re home,” he said, “but maybe once you have some free time, you could think about coming to the zoo and letting me show you around.”
“I would love that,” Erin said. She washed down the last bite of breakfast with her second cup of coffee. The waitress came by and placed their tickets on the table. Erin reached for hers but Michael got there first, snagging both with one of those big hands. Erin looked at him, surprised. “What are you doing?”
He smiled at her, smug. “Call it a homecoming present,” he said. He slid out of his seat and stood up, and Erin got a good look at him for the first time. Tall and lean, his brown Henley stretched tight across his broad chest, faded jeans fitting him tight in all the right places...especially that very full place right in front… He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and threw down a few bills for the tip. “I’ve got to run. It was great meeting you, and a genuine pleasure being able to talk to someone who understands my passion for preserving the world’s endangered species.”
“Well, considering what we’re doing to the planet, we’re all going to wind up as endangered.” Erin smiled up at him. “And I’ve never been religious but according to the Bible, Man was created to take care of the animals who were put here, first.” She shrugged. “We kind of dropped the ball on that one, but there’s still time to recover so I’m determined to do my part to make sure we don’t screw things up permanently.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Michael extended his hand again and Erin shook it, holding on a little longer than the first time. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks.” Erin watched him walk over to the register to pay for their meals. He glanced her way again and waved just before he left the restaurant. Looking out the window, she saw him cross the street and jog up the sidewalk toward the zoo’s entrance. She sighed and smiled.
Her phone went off at that moment, the ring tone one she had assigned to her mother. Erin fished the device out of her hoodie’s pocket and swiped her thumb across the screen. “Good morning, Mom.”
“Hello, honey. I thought I’d give you a call and see if your flight arrived on time.”
“Yeah, I got in around five o’clock. I stopped for breakfast before heading up to the house.” Erin swirled a finger through some powdered sugar on the edge of her plate. “I figured you’d probably be at the hospital before I got there.”
“Yes, I’m already here. Listen, Erin – I know you’re probably looking forward to catching up with some of your old friends in the area, but I was hoping you would hold off until tomorrow. I’ve made reservations for dinner tonight at Boka on Halstead. I have a little bit of a surprise and I’ve been holding off on telling you until you came home.”
“Okay,” Erin said, wary. Experience taught her that her mother’s idea of a surprise usually meant something bad. Like the time she had surprised Erin when she had made the announcement at the annual family Christmas get-together that she had filed for divorce from Erin’s father, thus explaining why Dad had chosen not to attend the party. Erin had been fourteen at the time and while she had been aware of trouble brewing in the marriage, it had come as a shock. Two years later, her mother had hit her with another of her “surprises” after they had gone to dinner and a play, and on the way home broke the news of her grandmother being diagnosed with cancer. “Just tell me right now if anyone is dead or dying. I don’t want to wait to find out.”
Her mother responded with one of her light, dry chuckles. “Oh, Erin. I can assure you, it’s nothing like that. This is good news.” Erin could hear voices in the background, the sounds of the hospital that she had come to associate with most of her mother’s calls. “The reservation is for seven. I’ll be heading to the restaurant straight from work so we’ll have to meet there.”
&nb
sp; “No problem, Mom.” Erin sucked the sugar off her finger. Throughout her high school years, any time spent with her mother had to be a series of coordinated scheduling, meeting up instead of just going together from home. Or spending time together at home. Being the youngest of three children – unplanned, as her mother had once admitted – and the only girl, Erin had learned to be independent early on with her two older siblings caught up in their own lives, their father traveling abroad with his architect firm, and their mother spending more time teaching than raising a family. “I’ll go home, grab a nap, and then I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”
“Good.” At that moment, an urgent beeping sound came over the line.
“Sounds like a code blue,” Erin said. She had heard it enough either during phone calls or in her mother’s presence to recognize it.
“That it is,” Mom said, her tone going grim. “All right, I’ve got to go, honey. See you tonight.”
With that, she hung up. Erin no longer took offense at the abrupt endings to their conversations. When your mother is a doctor in a busy teaching hospital, it came with the territory. She finished her coffee and pulled on her hoodie. Outside, she could see traffic had picked up considerably. Chicago had awakened. Making her way to the curb with her two bags, Erin managed to hail a cab in a matter of moments. “Evanston,” she said, and gave the house address. As the taxi drifted past the gates of Lincoln Park Zoo, she thought about Michael again and smiled. Even if he was married, there had been no denying the instant click between them. If nothing else, she could have found a new friend – and if things worked out in her favor and Michael had been serious about putting in a good word for her, she might even have a new job.
Chapter Three
The white stucco exterior of the Craftsman/Renaissance Revival house gleamed in the mid-morning sunlight, while the glass on the three sets of French doors leading out onto the front veranda reflected the cloudless blue sky. Erin stood at the edge of the brick path that wound its way through manicured box hedges and took in the sight before her. This had been her home since birth, a five-bedroom manor set in the rich, predominantly Caucasian region known as Evanston’s Lakeshore neighborhood. Most of the people who lived around here either worked at Northwestern University just up the road; professors, politicians, or doctors like her mother who came from old money. After her older brothers Peter and Brandon had moved out, and Dad had left, it had just been Mom and Erin rattling around inside the sprawling, two-story house. Erin had often asked why they didn’t just sell it and get something smaller, but Mom in her infinite stubbornness would just say she refused to give up her home. Funny, considering how she’s hardly ever here to enjoy it, Erin thought with a smirk.
