They’ve always been a team, so it makes me wonder why Wyatt is up there and Jones isn’t. Did I miss something while I was gone? Beyond the normal stuff, anyway. I know I missed a lot, more than I care to admit or think about. Hopefully, their relationship didn’t suffer because of what happened.
“Thank you, everyone,” Wyatt finally says when the crowd begins to quiet. “I have to admit, I’m not a man of many words. I’d rather put my hands to use than talk about what I’m going to do. But today I’m happy to be up here. I’m happy to share with you what’s next for Fairview. But first, a little story.
“Five years ago, I lost two people that were important to me. My father and the woman I loved. In my grief, I tried to find ways to keep myself busy, it was the only way I was able to stay sane. One project led to another and then another. Before I knew it, I had purchased the bar my mother worked at and completely renovated it. My father would have been proud. He enjoying working with his hands, a love we both shared. Once that was finished, my mind started to wander again, and it circled back to her.
“So I built the bed and breakfast, opened it, and then sold it. It was doing well, but I knew there were people who could run it better than I could. People who would find a way to bring tourists to our town. When that didn’t happen right away, I wanted to solve the problem. It was a new challenge and to keep my mind occupied, I was ready to accept it.
“With the land I purchased, I intended to open a water park. Thing is, I hate water parks. I’m not fond of swimming in places that I’m sure someone hasn’t peed in.”
The crowd bursts out in laughter. Not me. I’m staring at Wyatt, my heart breaking for him. All this was because I left. Everything he’s accomplished is because I failed him. I don’t know whether to be happy for him or sad that things turned out the way they did.
“An idea struck me one night as I was walking through town, admiring the facelift so many businesses now had. Our town, even though we kept our classic charm, looked new again. It made me wonder what it was like a long time ago. Back in the days before technology and modern amenities. Back when a trip to the store was an all-day adventure.”
Stepping back, Wyatt moves to a covered easel, reaching up and taking hold of the white sheet.
My heart pounds in my chest as I hear the passion in Wyatt’s voice as he attempts to mask his heartache. Guilt consumes me, it has since the day I left, but in this moment, it’s overwhelming.
“That idea grew into a larger idea, and now, in less than a month, Old Fairview will open,” he says, drawing the sheet away and revealing a large photo of what looks to be a dusty town. “Our hope is not only to bring people to our wonderful town but to educate people on what life was like for the settlers. We’re planning a soft opening for those that live in town and want to see what it’s all about in two weeks. Each of you are invited. If you have any questions, you all know where to find me.
“Now, before I hand the microphone over, there are a few people I’ve really like to thank for helping make all of this possible. First and foremost, my best friend Adam Jones. Without him, none of this would have been possible. He was the one that encouraged me to funnel my grief into something positive. I was headed down a dark hole when he pulled me out. I’d also like to thank my mother and sister who have been working tirelessly to bring the town to life by running the Bed & Breakfast. And lastly, I’d like to thank the Warrens, Beverly and Joseph. When I purchased the land from them and told them of my plans, they encouraged me to move forward. Knowing Mr. Warren is a smart businessman, his advice meant a lot to me.”
My parents knew. We never spoke of Wyatt, it was forbidden, but they knew. All this time they had been working with him, helping him make something of himself, and yet he’s still not good enough in their eyes. They don’t respect the hard work he’s done or his achievements.
My anger rises when I see my father step on the stage and shake Wyatt’s hand. In public, he’s a grand man. Well respected in the community. In private, he’s an asshole. No one knows of his indiscretions, and he likes to keep it that way.
My pregnancy was one of those indiscretions.
Waving to the crowd, my father accepts the microphone from Wyatt and steps to the center of the stage.
“Good afternoon,” he begins. “I’m excited to be a part of the next chapter for Fairview. As Wyatt mentioned, Old Town will open in less than a month. In the meantime, we would like to encourage the community to find a way to become involved with the project. If everyone lends a helping hand, everyone succeeds. The Mayor and I will be holding a town hall meeting tomorrow night and everyone who would like to be more involved is welcome to join.”
People around me begin to clap but my hands stay at my side. That’s when I realize that the one holding on to Lola is empty. Looking around, I spot her just as she’s about to climb the steps to the stage, headed straight for her daddy.
Wyatt scoops her up as he accepts the microphone back from my father. They share a look, one I can interpret and I’m sure the rest of the town can as well.
There’s hatred in my father’s glare.
Their business relationship isn’t as friendly as they want people to think it is.
“Thank you all for coming out today,” Wyatt says, drawing my attention away from my father’s glare and back to center stage. “We hope you enjoy your afternoon and are as excited as we are for what’s to come for our town. Our home.”
Wyatt sets the microphone down and takes the steps one at a time, Lola laughing in his arms as they make their way over to us. All eyes are on him, and then us, as he sets Lola down and reaches for my hand.
“Ready to chat?” he asks, pulling me through the sea of people. They part as we move forward, whispers surrounding us.
We keep moving until we are out of the park and safely inside the bar. Releasing the grip he had on my hand, Wyatt flips the lights on, illuminating the bar. Lola wiggles free of my grasp and heads to the nearest booth, climbing in and grabbing a menu.
“Can I get food, Daddy?”
“Of course you can. What do you want?”
“French fries,” she declares excitedly.
“I’ll be right back,” Wyatt says to me before disappearing into the kitchen.
Taking the seat across from Lola, I take the menu from her, setting it aside. “Hey, sweet girl. Why did you go up on stage with Daddy?”
“I was going to say hi to Grandpa, but he looked angry.”
“Grandpa and I had a fight this morning, honey. He’s not mad at you, I promise.”
“He looked mad at Daddy too. Why is he mad?”
How do you explain to a four-year-old that her grandpa never wanted her? That he was angry when he found out that I was pregnant?
You don’t.
You lie.
For the first time in my life, I have to lie to my daughter. I’ve always told her the truth, no matter if I thought she would understand it or not.
“Your grandpa is mad because Mommy and Daddy are hanging out together. Remember how I told you that Daddy wasn’t around when you were born?” She nods, fully engrossed in our conversation. “Well, Daddy was here doing big things while you and I were in Denver. Mommy had to finish going to school so she could buy all your toys and stuff. Grandpa and Mommy had a fight about that before you were born. I didn’t want to live in Denver. It’s okay, though. You get to see your Daddy now, so Mommy won the fight. That’s why Grandpa is angry. He doesn’t like to lose. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so. Does this mean we’re going to live with Daddy now?”
“I don’t know, sweet girl. Daddy and I need to talk about that.”
We need to talk about a lot of things. Things that are going to be heart wrenching and tough. I’m not looking forward to it, but at the same time… this is going to be closure for both of us. Something we each need.
Closure on one chapter and hopefully the start of a new chapter. One where we get to write the ending ourselves.<
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22
Decisions, Decision
After Lola eats her french fries, Wyatt gives her a tour of the bar. More specifically, he shows her his office. It fascinates her for some reason. She ends up twirling around in his desk chair, laughing until she gets dizzy.
“Where are Addy and Jones?” Wyatt asks as he locks his office behind us.
“I’m not sure. At the festival maybe.”
“Can you call them, ask them to come and pick up Lola?” his suggestion has my knees feeling weak. “I know you’re leaving soon and I’d like to talk. Alone.”
Nodding, I search my purse for my phone. Texting Addy, she replies instantly.
ME: Can you come pick up Lola?
ADDY: Sure. Where did you go?
ME: At the bar.
ADDY: Be there in five.
“They’re on their way now,” I explain to Wyatt. When I look over my shoulder to make sure he heard me, his eyes find mine, and my knees, already weak, almost buckle under me. I reach out and grab the nearest chair, slowly lowering myself.
When it rocks slightly I realize what chair I’m in.
My chair.
One of the only pieces of furniture in the place that’s not brand new.
A piece of our history, perfectly preserved in its imperfect state.
“Okay. Would you mind if Jones took Lola over to meet my mom and my sister?”
Becky and Willow.
My second family while Wyatt and I were dating.
“Not at all,” I reply instantly. “Should we go with them?”
“Not yet. Mom doesn’t know everything I know. She called this morning and heard Lola’s voice in the background. She had more questions than I was prepared to answer.”
Of course she did.
Becky liked to hover. Not because she didn’t trust us, but because she cared. She wanted to know everything we were up to, where we were going, and when we would be back.
I can only imagine what went through her head when Wyatt told her she was a grandma. I’m sure tears were involved.
After Jones and Addy pick Lola up, Wyatt and I settle at our table, in the same seats we always took, his chair as close to mine as possible. I have the sudden urge to play footsie with him just to see if I can bring a smile to his face.
“So,” he begins. “I’m not really sure where to start.”
“Me either,” I admit.
“What do you want to do?”
“That’s a loaded question,” I say. “I want Lola to be happy. I want you two to be able to have a relationship, one that’s better than every other weekend like divorced parents give their kids. She deserves better than that and so do you after all I put you through.”
“Stop right there. I think we need to back up a little bit.”
“What do you mean? I thought we needed to talk about what we were going to do next?”
“We do, but I want you to know that I don’t blame you. Not for what happened or how it happened. Not anymore. Your parents are to blame. They knew what they were doing, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to keep their secret forever. The past needs to be left there, in the past. Especially if we are going to move forward as a family.”
His words crush me.
“As a family.”
Three little words that mean more to me than the fact that he doesn’t blame me. I blame me. I could have fought harder, longer. I should have. Things could have been different. He missed out on four years of Lola’s life because I wasn’t strong enough.
“What do you want to do, then?” I ask, not sure how to reply to such a strong statement.
Reaching for my hand and lacing our fingers together, Wyatt looks me in the eye, and I can clearly see everything he’s feeling at the moment. There’s a mix of sadness and excitement. He’s hesitant to speak his mind, something he’s never been before.
I get it.
This is a big decision, the biggest we’ve ever had to make.
“If I ask you to stay, will you?” he finally says.
“Is that what you want?” I ask, not sure if he’s asking me to stay for Lola or because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.
“I want the chance to create the family we always talked about having. Movie nights by the fire with popcorn and candy. Tucking our kids into bed together every night. Waking up next to each other.”
My hands begin to shake as the memories of our conversation come back to me. He remembers every detail.
“You want how many kids?” I ask, sitting up and pulling the covers over my bare chest.
“Four. What’s wrong with that?”
“That’s a lot of kids, Wyatt. What about two?”
“Two means they’ll fight all the time. Just ask my mom. My sister and I didn’t start getting along until Willow moved out.”
“Okay, so maybe three, then.”
“Nope. Four is the magic number. And they have to be close together. All within a few years of each other.”
“So you want me barefoot and pregnant for an entire decade, then?”
Laughing, Wyatt pushes me down on the bed and rolls on top of me. I tried to tell him that we shouldn’t be having this conversation right now. It was inappropriate, but it’s also the only time we’re ever alone.
When I asked him to come to Denver with me, he jumped at the opportunity. Alone time has been scarce. Jones is having a hard time right now and going crazy. Every time we aren’t with him, he’s at a party getting wasted. With Jones working all weekend, and Willow on watch, Wyatt was able to sneak away for a few days.
And we’ve made the most of it.
We spent all day on campus, exploring the area and figuring out where I’ll need to be when classes start in a little over a month. After eating a light dinner, we’ve spent the rest of the night in bed, holding each other. Making up for lost time over the summer.
I’ve been trying not to think about the fact that I’m leaving him soon, but being here, in Denver, it’s been hard. Every time I look at him, I see my future, but there’s a huge lapse in time. I see him as a grown man with a child on his hip instead of a book bag slung over his shoulder.
I’ve tried to convince him to come to Denver with me, to enroll at the university. It’s not what he wants in life. He wants to work with his hands, to learn his father’s trade. Working on cars is his passion, and I would never want to deny him that.
“Is there something wrong with me wanting you with my child in your belly?” he asks, kissing down my exposed neck.
“Only if it means I’m uncomfortable all the time. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” I tease, my words coming out hoarse.
“Of course not,” he murmurs against my shoulder, slowly working his way down my body. “But I have four names picked out that I like and don’t want to have to choose between.”
Pushing against him, I wait until he’s looking me in the eye to speak. “Seriously? You have names already picked out?”
“What?”
“That’s such a girl thing to do, that’s all. What if I don’t like the names?” I argue, crossing my arms over my bare chest.
“I guess we could negotiate,” he replies, sliding off me and pulling me to him.
“Okay, what are they?” I ask, knowing that it’s a pointless discussion.
“Do you want the girls’ names or the boys’ names first?”
“Surprise me,” I reply, rolling my eyes even though he can’t see me.
“Well,” he starts sounding thoughtful. “For the boys, I was thinking Riley and Jacob.”
“And for the girls?”
“What do you think about Lola and Grace?”
“That’s my middle name,” I protest.
“I know, that’s why I want to name our daughter that. She’ll be just as beautiful as her mother. All our kids will be.”
“And what will our life be like with four kids running around?”
“Well, crazy I assume, but a lot of fun. We’ll have fami
ly movie night where we’ll eat popcorn and candy until we all want to throw up. Then we’ll tuck them each in bed, kissing them on their foreheads and wishing them sweet dreams. After that, we’ll crawl into bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms like we are right now, and wake up the same way the next morning. Every morning, together. For the rest of our life. How does that sound?”
Such a smooth talker, I think to myself.
“Amazing,” I whisper, images of our potential future running through my mind.
How did I get so lucky that there’s a man who wants to plan our entire future together and we’ve been together for less than a year? I must have done something right in another lifetime to be this lucky.
“Are you sure that’s what you want? After everything I’ve put you through?”
“Chloe, there’s nothing I want more. I built that house for us. I bought that land so all our special moments wouldn’t be tainted by anyone else. This table is still here because I couldn’t bring myself to part with it or the memories it holds.
“I want you, I always have, and I always will. I’m not saying it will be easy. We don’t know each other like we used to. We’ve been apart for a long time, and I’m sure there’s been other people, but we can have that dream still. If that’s what you want.”
I do.
I want Wyatt. I want the life he dreamed we could have together. I want the family we talked about.
It’s taken a lot to get where we are today. Too much, if you ask me. So much that I’m not sure we can move past it.
As much as I want to believe he’s letting it go, all of it, I’m not sure I can. Maybe, with time, I’ll be able to move on and when I’m ready, that path may lead me back here to him. Until then, I can’t risk that he may resent me for the rest of my life.
“I need to think about it,” I say, catching Wyatt by surprise. “It has nothing do to with you. I swear. And I don’t plan on keeping Lola from you. You two deserve to know each other, to build a relationship. It’s me. I’m not sure I’m ready to be back here, to face what happened.
Imperfect Love Story Page 14
