The receptionist got another call and Beth was put on hold. She waited what seemed like a long time, but it was only a couple minutes before the woman returned.
“Where were we?” she asked.
“Fish tacos.”
“Yes, I remember now. I’ve known Peter from the time he joined the firm and his father before him, too, as well as the other partners. As I recall, Mr. Hamlin does like Mexican food. I can’t remember what he orders, though.”
“That’s encouraging. I think I might be on the right track.”
“Won’t you give me your name?”
Beth hesitated. “It would mean nothing to him.”
“Try back again, and in the meantime I’ll mention your call to Mr. Hamlin.”
“Thank you,” Beth said.
As soon as Beth disconnected she contacted Sam. His lunch break coincided with hers and they often spoke as they had when she was hospitalized. He answered on the first ring, as if he’d been anticipating her call.
“So how’d it go?” he asked right off.
“He wasn’t there, but the receptionist was as helpful as she could be. She urged me to call back.”
“Are you going to?” he asked.
“I suppose I will. I think this lawyer is the one.”
Sam didn’t approve of her plan, but thankfully he did nothing more than offer his advice. “Think carefully before you do,” he urged.
“I have been giving it a lot of thought. I want to do this for Sunshine. It might go nowhere, but the least I can do is make the effort.” The more she thought about it, she knew Sam might be right. She could be opening a can of wriggling worms and the ramifications might well bleed into her entire family. The hostility between Beth’s mother and Sunshine was as thick as lava, and adding to it was sure to cause even more problems. The two sisters were rarely in the same room together, and when they were, the tension was often unbearable. Beth loved her aunt, and more than anything she wanted do what she could to help Sunshine to find the happiness she deserved.
—
Beth tried again on Tuesday afternoon. A different receptionist answered and blew her off like she was a fly on her pizza plate. Wednesday it was the same thing. The most she could get out of the woman was the time for an appointment, the soonest of which was in December. The woman urged her to take it, as Mr. Hamlin was in high demand. Although she never expected to actually make the appointment, she booked it, anyway.
On Friday Sondra Reacher, the older receptionist, was back on duty. “It’s me again,” Beth said, hoping the woman recognized her voice.
“Ah, yes, I remember you.”
Beth was relieved. “Please tell me Mr. Hamlin is in his office today and not in court.” She didn’t mention that she’d called four times that week already.
“He’s in,” the woman said.
“Can I speak to him?” Beth asked, her excitement growing.
“Let me put you on hold. I’ll check with him. You’d better give me your name this time.”
“It’s Beth. Beth Prudhomme.”
The woman repeated her name, asked for the spelling, and then lowered her voice to say “I’ll do my best. No promises.”
“Thank you.”
Beth was put on hold and her heart raced the entire time she waited.
“This is Peter Hamlin.” His voice was sharp and impatient, as if she’d interrupted an important meeting. “I understand this is a personal matter?”
“Yes, yes, it is,” Beth said, her mouth going dry.
“In regards to what?” he demanded.
“I’m wondering if you’re the same Peter Hamlin who once knew my aunt. Her name is Louise, but her friends call her—”
“Sunshine,” Peter finished for her, his voice instantly softening.
“Yes. So it is you?” Happiness and relief bubbled up inside her. “I was making an educated guess and—”
“What does she want?” He returned to the clipped gruff voice he’d used earlier.
Then, before she could answer, he asked another question.
“Is she okay?” He made the questions sound like she was on the witness stand for the opposing side and any response was to be treated with suspicion.
“She’s in good health…now, if you’d give me a chance to explain.”
“Then she wants something.” The hostility made her stiffen.
“No, not at all. My aunt doesn’t want anything. She doesn’t even know that I’ve contacted you. I haven’t told her…she mentioned you and I could tell that you’d been important to her at one time and decided to try to find you.”
He was silent for several heartbeats. “Then what do you want?” he asked, sounding less angry now but not overly pleased.
“I want my aunt’s happiness.”
“She’s a successful artist and—”
“So you’ve followed her career.”
He didn’t answer right away. “Yes.”
“Then you know she never married?”
Again the slight hesitation. “Yes.”
“Did you?” Beth ventured. She had this romantic picture in the back of her mind that she would bring these two people who had once loved each other back together again. There would be roses and champagne and they would still be madly in love after all these years.
“I did. Are you Ellie’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Listen, Beth Prudhomme, I’m a busy man. I have a client waiting. I don’t know what you expect from me, but I want none of it. I made my choice, your mother made hers, and so did Sunshine. Let’s leave it at that.”
Before Beth could say another word, the line was disconnected. Beth sat in her car, staring at her phone, unable to believe her aunt could have loved a rude, arrogant man like Peter Hamlin.
—
“He was awful,” Beth told Sam later that evening.
“Babe, what did you expect?”
“Not that,” she admitted as she tossed together a salad for their dinner. Sam had offered to take her out, but Beth wasn’t in the mood. She wanted to vent, and doing it in a restaurant wasn’t the best idea.
“I’m sorry you’re disappointed.”
“I had this fantasy built up in my mind of the two of them reconnecting and discovering their love had never died.”
“That’s in the movies, Beth. Real life is different.”
“I can’t believe my aunt could love such a jerk.”
Sam tucked his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “They fell in love years ago. Time changes people.”
“I know.” Inwardly, she prayed it would never change the way she felt about Sam.
“What does Sunshine have to say about him?”
“Nothing. Every time I ask about her first love, she changes the subject. The most information I’ve gotten out of her is that he likes fish tacos.”
“You did your best.”
Beth tried, but she couldn’t help being disappointed.
—
Hours later, as she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, she couldn’t accept that this bad-tempered, unfriendly man was the same one her aunt had loved. And from all outward indications, Sunshine loved him still.
Saturday morning Beth waited until after her three piano students had come for their lessons before she reached out to her aunt. She wouldn’t tell Sunshine what she’d done, but she had to know more about Peter if she was going to make this work. There was a missing piece in this family drama—actually, there were several such pieces missing—and Beth was determined to lock it into place.
She brought Sunshine lunch at her studio. Her aunt had always made Beth feel welcome and special.
“What did you bring me?”
“Hummus and fresh cut-up veggies, a hard-boiled egg, and a huge peanut-butter cookie.”
“Perfect. That’s a well-rounded lunch. Let’s start with the cookie.”
Beth couldn’t contain her smile. “We always ate dessert first when I was a kid, too, remember.
”
“I’m not likely to forget.”
“Do you remember the time you wanted to take me on a picnic and Mom wouldn’t let me go because she said I had hay fever?”
Sunshine rolled her eyes. “Which time?”
Beth pretended not to hear the question. “We ate under the dining room table.”
“And your mother had a fit.”
“We got crumbs on the carpet,” Beth reminded her.
“A federal offense for sure.”
They both laughed. Beth took care peeling away the plastic wrapper around her cookie. “I’ve never asked why you and my mother avoid each other.”
“It’s a long story, honey, and best left as it is.”
“Perhaps,” Beth agreed. “Still, I’d like to know.”
“Have you ever asked your mother?”
Beth had years ago, after a short visit with Sunshine. Her aunt was appropriately named. Her visits were like scattered rays of beaming light that came into Beth’s life when she seemed to need it most. She often wondered how Sunshine knew the best possible time to visit.
“I did ask Mom and she brushed me off and said I should ask you and then warned me against it.”
Sunshine laughed. “That sounds like something she would do.”
“She means well,” Beth said. She did, too, and hoped she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself. “Won’t you tell me?” Beth asked, growing serious.
Her aunt waited a few moments before she answered. “I’m thinking this isn’t the time or the place. I will, my love but not now. Another day.”
It was hard to accept but she agreed. “Answer one question; that’s all I’ll ask for now.”
“Okay, ask away,” Sunshine said, with a classic wave of her hand.
“Was whatever happened between you over a man?”
Sunshine’s gaze shot to hers and her eyes widened. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Is his name Peter?”
“You said one question.”
“This is part B.”
“That’s two questions.”
“Louise, tell me the truth.” To the best of her knowledge, this was the first time Beth had used her aunt’s given name.
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes filling with sadness. “His name was Peter.”
“And he loved fish tacos?”
“And sculpting, and, oh my, he was talented. He loved to laugh and sing songs he’d composed in my honor, and read aloud to me until I fell asleep in his arms. We connected on every level. I never loved anyone the same again,” she whispered, lost in the perfect love in her past.
This was the same Peter Hamlin Beth had spoken with over the phone? It didn’t sound like she’d found the same man at all.
CHAPTER 23
Sam
Sam had been in a sour mood all week without any real reason that he could name. Everyone noticed, not that there was any hiding how he felt. This wasn’t like him, and he felt he owed his entire staff an apology.
It took him until Thursday to figure out what was bugging him when it should have been obvious. It was Beth. He hadn’t been able to think straight since their stint babysitting Matthew. Their being together was all wrong. He knew it then but didn’t know what to do about it and so he’d pushed the thought out of his mind. Not that it’d done any good. He’d made excuses to avoid her ever since that night—well, other than the two nights they performed together at the rehab center.
Beth had tried to talk to him, but he was having none of it. After a while she gave up and he was grateful. Everyone was entitled to an off day, or, in his case, an off week.
Friday afternoon following work Sam asked Rocco to join him and his crew. As was their habit, Sam and the other mechanics met at a nearby tavern for a cold draft beer and downtime. They were just finishing off the last of their beers when Rocco strolled through the door.
Sam was slouched over his mug, his mind whirling with his dilemma. He was glad to see Rocco and hoped his friend would help him sort through his thoughts. He lifted his beer, silently inviting Rocco to join him.
“Sup?” Rocco asked, as he slid out the stool next to Sam.
“Not much,” Sam answered.
Rocco gestured toward the bartender and asked for a beer. He had his own mug within minutes.
“Been thinking,” Sam said, and kept his gaze focused straight ahead.
“About?”
“Been troubled all week,” Sam admitted. “Ever since you had Beth and me watch Matthew.”
“About what?”
“Beth.”
Rocco was silent for a short moment. “You two have a falling out?”
“A minor spat, easily settled. And that’s just it, we should have had a big one by this time and we haven’t.”
“You looking to fight with your woman?”
“No,” he said, getting flustered. He tensed. Even Rocco considered Beth to be Sam’s woman. He swallowed tightly, unsure how best to explain his feelings. “I expected things to change after she got out of the hospital and they haven’t. We talk every day, see each other four or five times a week. It’s like overnight my life revolves around hers and hers around mine. It’s too much.”
“Not following you, buddy. You’re not fighting and you think that’s a bad thing?”
“No. Okay, yeah, we get along and that’s cool. It’s everything else, Rocco.” Sam wiped a hand down his face and wished he could explain himself in a way that made sense. Problem was, he wasn’t sure he could put it into words. “Did you know she’s not talking to her parents?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Rocco asked.
“A lot. I met her mother; it didn’t go well. She wasn’t in my face or anything, but I got the message and so did Beth. I’m not good enough for her daughter. Later the mother sent this guy she wants Beth to marry to town to check up on her.”
“The night of the Rock and Bowl?”
“Yeah.”
“Heard she isn’t interested in him.”
“She isn’t.”
Rocco glanced his way. “So what’s the problem?”
Sam exhaled a long, slow sigh. “Beth and I had a great time with Matthew, and I have to tell her it scared the crap out of me.”
Rocco raised his hand, stopping him. “We were talking about the mother.”
“That’s part of it.”
“What’s Matthew got to do with Beth’s mother?”
“Not a damn thing. Hear me out, will you?”
Rocco shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Am I going to be able to follow your line of thinking?”
“Hope so,” Sam confessed. “That night with Matthew I saw Beth holding your son and all at once I’m thinking that could be the two of us, and Rocco, I got to tell you that shook me. Not until later when Beth fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. I was walking through a field of daisies holding Beth’s hand and suddenly I realized this is not me. I got caught up in this romantic dream and it shook me up good. Everything is happening too fast and I need to put the brakes on before this relationship gets out of hand.”
“Okay,” Rocco said slowly, reluctantly.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Sam said. He sipped his beer, but it tasted bitter on his tongue. He was confused and unsure and needed his friend to help ground him before he got lost in that field of daisies.
Rocco’s deep frown cut through him. “Are you saying you want to end it with Beth?”
“No.” That was one thing he was confident about. “Not at all. I’m crazy about her.”
“And it’s scaring you to death.”
Sam laughed because his friend had it in a nutshell. Beth had him scared out of his wits. “This isn’t me. I’m not interested in making a commitment and she’s the kind of woman that is going to want one.”
“Has she said anything along those lines?”
“Not yet.” It was coming, though. As sure as the autumn rains, the day was fast approaching when Beth would wa
nt more. A lot more, and no way was Sam ready.
“What are you going to tell her?”
If he knew that he wouldn’t have asked Rocco to stop by for a beer. “Don’t know yet, that’s the problem.” He rubbed his hand down his face. “She told me not long ago I was her first serious relationship.”
“She’s serious and you’re not.”
He was serious, but he was leery of what that would mean. “Beth has barely dated. Her parents have kept close tabs on her nearly her entire life. The men she dated before me were all Mommy-approved. She looks at me like some kind of hero and we both know that’s bogus.”
Rocco snickered as though amused.
“What’s so funny?” Sam demanded.
“You remember when Nichole broke up with me? Her ex threatened to take her to court for custody of Owen because he found me an unsuitable role model.”
“Not like I can forget.” Those days had been bleak ones for his friend, who acted like a wounded animal, and not just any animal but a grizzly bear. No one got close without fear of losing an appendage or being cut wide open by a sharp tongue.
“I was angry and bitter.”
“No kidding, Sherlock.” Sam had been on the receiving end of his friend’s anger more than once.
“But deep down I figured Nichole was right to break it off. I wasn’t near good enough for her and I knew it. Actually, it didn’t come as any big surprise when she wanted to call it quits. It was what I’d been expecting all along.”
“You not good enough for Nichole? That’s bull and you know it.”
“You’re wrong. No way did I deserve that woman loving me. Got history and most of it isn’t good. You know that better than anyone. I did my best to make up for it, being a tax-paying citizen, raising my daughter as best I could. But Nichole and me? She deserved better.”
“She wanted you, though.”
“She did, and I thank God every day for whatever it was that I did to deserve her.” Rocco paused and took a swallow of his beer.
“You saying that’s what is going on with me?”
“Can’t say, Sam. You’re the only one who can answer that.”
He mulled it over for several moments. “It’s more,” he admitted. “Beth has a way of getting to me like no one else, not even Trish.”
If Not for You Page 20
