And with that he left her standing in the entry, with a stunned expression on her face.
He would let himself out the kitchen door. But he would be back in the morning. Hopefully, both he and Zaire’s mom would be in a better mood.
Zaire woke up Tuesday morning to the sound of clattering in her kitchen. She glanced at the clock. Five AM? What was Landon doing making so much noise in the kitchen at this hour?
Zaire grumbled her way out of bed, still wearing the T-shirt and shorts from the night before, and thrust her feet into her slippers. She made judicious use of the handrail as she descended the steps, so that in her sleepy state she didn’t end up in a heap at the bottom with a broken neck.
By the time she reached the hallway leading from the entry to the kitchen, she was ready to let him have it. She pushed into the room. “Landon what on earth—” She froze. Her mother stood across the room, at the counter before the window that overlooked the lake, a cookbook propped up on the stand, and a swath of foods and utensils before her. “Mom, what are you doing here?”
Holding a bowl in the crook of one arm and a whisk in her hand, her mother gave her a once-over from her head to her toes. “Well, at least you came downstairs fully clothed.”
“What?” Zaire shook her head.
Steam was practically shooting from Mom’s ears. And she was whipping those eggs hard enough to make them repent for having cholesterol in them. “Why on earth didn’t you just come out to the house like we’d planned?”
Zaire tucked her still-bandaged arm close, but forked the fingers of her other hand through her hair. She gestured from her mother to the mess in the kitchen and chose not to respond to her question for the moment. “What are you doing?”
“And then when we got here last night he was here.” Mom practically spat the word.
Zaire was too exhausted for this conversation right now. She sank onto one of the bar stools to her right and laid her head on her good arm, closing her eyes. “Do you at least have coffee going?”
Mom thunked the bowl of eggs down onto the granite countertop with enough force that Zaire cracked one eye open to make sure the bowl hadn’t shattered and sent egg-wash everywhere. A moment later, Mom plunked a cup of coffee in front of Zaire and practically tossed the pint of half-and-half down beside it.
“Thanks.” Zaire sighed.
For some reason, Mom had been living on a cloud of anger lately. Zaire had mostly given up trying to figure out what was going on with her. She didn’t ever really want to talk about anything unless it was to start a fight about something.
Zai twisted the plastic cap off the creamer and swirled a dollop into her mug. “You do know it’s only five?”
“Yes. I know it’s only five. I wanted to get this quiche in the oven so your father could have a good breakfast before he has to leave for work.”
“Dad’s here too?”
“Of course he is. You didn’t think I’d come move in with you for two weeks and leave him at home to fend for himself, did you?”
Two weeks. Zaire wanted to cry. She couldn’t take this animosity for two weeks. She just couldn’t. But neither did she want to kick her mother and father out of her home. She certainly didn’t need their help—especially not if it came with a five AM wake-up call each morning. But how did she let them know that without hurting their feelings even more than she somehow always managed to do without even trying?
She let the silence hang through half the cup of coffee, but Mom’s banging and clanging was starting to give her a headache. “Mom. You are obviously angry. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings by not coming to your house. But honestly…” She let the thought trail away. Honestly what? She just wasn’t sure how to tell her mom that she felt more than a bit smothered, a lot like a bumbling little kid, and extremely incapable whenever she was around. How did one go about saying that without hurting the other person’s feelings?
“I suppose I should have expected it.” Mom had bacon frying on the stove now, and was chopping an onion with severe strokes. “Ever since that no-good lout walked out on you, you’ve thought you had to do everything on your own.”
“Mom stop!” Zaire’s anger boiled over. “You’ve been mad at me for years! Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe I don’t come around more or ask for your help because I can’t seem to do anything right in your eyes? Yes, Landon left me! Yes, I know you were disappointed and thought I should have done more to keep our marriage together. No, I’m not the little domestic fairy that you always were. But not all the blame for my failed marriage falls on me!” Zaire took one more large gulp of coffee and dashed the rest of it into the sink, tossing the mug in after it. She started from the room.
“What on earth are you talking about? I don’t blame you!”
Zaire froze, her back still to Mom. “Well…you have a funny way of showing it. I have to get to the shop. Have a good day.” She left then, ignoring her mother’s protest that she wasn’t well enough to go to work and to come back “this instant.”
Not the long hot shower she took before leaving, nor her favorite outfit, nor the fact that she had a busy morning of shoppers all dropping by to check on her and buy a little something, could remove the cloud that seemed to be hanging over her head all day. By lunch, she was feeling seriously guilty for the way she’d left things with Mom that morning, and the constant low throb of pain had worn her to the point of exhaustion. She was just stepping out from behind the counter to turn the sign to “closed for lunch” when Landon stepped into the store.
One hand behind his back, he tilted her a gentle look of admonition. “What are you doing at work? I stopped by your house thinking you might just be crawling out of bed, but your mom said you’ve been here since about six?”
Zaire waved away his chiding and motioned to the door behind him. “Flip over the sign and lock the door, would you? I was just about to run to Golden Loaves for soup and a sandwich since I didn’t get to pack a lunch this morning.”
Landon’s look was gentle and soft around the edges. “You look like you’re in pain. Don’t you think you should take the rest of the day off?”
“My arm is fine. And my ribs only hurt if I move too fast.”
“Zai.”
He still hadn’t locked the door and she motioned him to it again. “Would you just lock the door already?”
To her surprise, he grinned. “Can’t.”
She frowned. “Why not.”
“Because then you might see the surprise I brought you.”
Her mood lightened at just the mention. In the early days of their relationship when they were still in high school and then college, he had routinely bought her little things, just because. “You brought me something?”
He nodded.
“You didn’t have to do that. What is it?” She tried to peer behind him, but he turned with a tsking sound to keep her from seeing what he held. She smiled at him, aware that her eagerness to find out what it was might have just given away her appreciation for his thoughtfulness. What was she doing? She shouldn’t accept gifts from him. It would be too much like accepting him again. And yet… Her curiosity got the better of her. He knew her weakness for little gifts too well.
Landon chuckled, and the sound of it sent a warm wave washing through her. How she had loved the sound of his laugh when they were married.
“See, that smile right there is why I brought you these.” He whipped his hand out from behind his back to reveal a box of chocolates with a small bouquet of roses lying on top.
“Oh, Landon! Chocolates from Ye Olde Fudge Shoppe! You shouldn’t have.” But even as she said the words, she hugged the box to her chest and batted her eyelashes at him.
His gaze was warm and thoughtful and appreciative. “You deserve it. Especially if you’ve been at work since six like your mom said. What brought you here so early?”
Zaire sighed and set the chocolates on her desk, then buried her face in the bouquet of roses. “These smell wonde
rful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”
Zai wrinkled her nose at him. Yet another sign that he knew her too well. She headed for the back of the store in search of a jar for water. Behind her she heard Landon flip the sign and click the lock, and then follow her.
He stood, arms folded, waiting silently while she dug a jar out of the cupboard, filled it with water at the sink and arranged the roses in it. Finally, she couldn’t hold her silence a moment longer.
She spun to face him. “Ever since you left me, Mom has been a real bear. It’s like she feels your leaving was my fault and hasn’t been able to forgive me for it.”
His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry about that. My failures not only hurt you, but the whole family.”
Zai shook her head, feeling bad for the way the words had tumbled out. “I didn’t mean to toss the blame for our issues at your feet. I just… for the past several years I’ve tried to be the peacemaker with her, and it never seems to work. I don’t know how to reach her or what exactly has changed. So, I suppose it’s just easier to stay away.”
“Take it from someone who’s been there.” Landon pinned her with a look. “Refusing to confront an issue doesn’t make it go away. It only allows things to fester and grow. Took me several years to realize that if I’d just admitted to you that my business was failing we could have worked together on a solution and it would have saved a lot of tension at home.”
Zaire studied him. “That’s what you meant the other day in the hospital wasn’t it? You were having money problems and I didn’t know, so I just kept spending like we always had.”
Landon held up a hand. “That was not your fault.”
“Maybe, but I knew there were issues under the surface. I should have approached you and talked about the tension I kept feeling long before things fell apart.” Zaire took a breath. She’d never admitted that to anyone, not even herself before this moment. She was surprised how freeing it felt to admit that she was partially at fault for their breakup.
“Maybe we are both partly to blame,” Landon offered. “But I want you to know that I feel, and have always felt, that the divorce was mostly my fault.”
A wave of her hand brushed the conversation away. She picked up the jar of flowers and headed for her desk. “It’s done. We might as well not dwell on the past because we can’t go back.”
“Can’t we?” There was so much emotion packed into those two little words that Zaire spun to face him, the jar of flowers still in her grip.
There was a searching, haunted look in the blue of his gaze. A longing for what once was.
Zaire swallowed. “What are you doing home, Landon? You’ve hinted, but never actually said. At first you left me mostly alone and I thought you’d just come back because this was where we grew up. I could live with that. But ever since my fall, you’ve hardly left my side. First, you hinted at wanting a second chance, and then, when I assured Mom that we weren’t getting back together, you seemed hurt. Then the other day Salem said something about you quitting your show to come home and pursue me. And now”—she tossed a gesture at the flowers—“you’re bringing me gifts and…I need to know what your intentions are.” She held her breath, unsure if she was ready to hear his reply no matter what he said.
He took a step closer. “My intentions are just the same as they were when I moved back home.”
She tried to swallow, but there wasn’t enough moisture in her mouth to do so. “Stop beating around the bush and just spit it out.”
He took another step and tilted her a soft look, full of promise and future. “God told me to come home and make things right with you.”
“Make things right? Like talk to me and tell me you were sorry and we both move on with our separate lives?”
He shook his head slowly. “That’s not what I want.”
The vase slipped and she clutched at it, thankfully catching it before it hit the ground. Zaire presented him with her back and busied herself moving things around on her desk to make room for the flowers. Her heart hammered. Surely, he didn’t mean… Jesus, you aren’t asking this of me, are you? She froze and leaned in to her palms.
She felt him come to a stop close behind her, and then his hands settled on her shoulders and he began to massage the tension from her tight muscles. She stiffened, but he kept working at her gently, until she felt herself begin to relax even against her will.
“This is why I didn’t tell you my intentions at first. I wanted you to just get used to the idea of my being home. But yeah, I’d like to see if we could make a go of it again, Zai. I was an idiot. But I’m a changed man now. And knowing you and your independent streak, I know your first instinct is going to be to throw me out on my ear and tell me it’s never going to happen. But I’d like a chance to prove to you that I think we can make this work. Really work, this time.”
She was already shaking her head. “Don’t toy with me, Landon. Please don’t toy with me. I don’t think I can handle another heartbreak.”
“Hey.” He gripped her shoulders, gently tugging her around until they stood face to face. Slowly his hands came up to encase her cheeks. He looked deep into her eyes. “I promise you, I have no intention of hurting you, hon. Give us another chance. Let’s rebuild what we had.”
Zaire studied him. There was nothing but sincerity in his expression. Her heart hammered at the prospect, and joy soared at the possibility. “Do you really mean it?”
“With all my heart.” His thumbs swept a gentle caress across her cheeks.
“Okay.” The word was out before it had barely crossed her mind. Confusion tumbled through her on the heels of the agreement. What was she doing? And yet…how could she not agree. This was the only love of her life standing before her.
His whole body seemed to ease, as though a wave of tension had just rolled off him. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.” His gaze dropped to her lips and he leaned forward slowly.
Zaire felt her anticipation soar, and then his lips were on hers and she released a gentle sigh of pure pleasure. One of his hands dropped to the small of her back, and he tucked her closer. She spread her palms across the firm expanse of his chest, and then let them drift up to caress the silken strands of the short hair at his neck. His kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic. It was firm, and controlled, and slow, and soft, and yet it spread fire to every part of her, all the way to the toes that she curled into tight bunches in her cute fall boots.
He eased away much too soon for her liking, and rested his forehead against hers. They were both breathing hard.
And with the separation, reality came rolling back in. What had she just agreed to? Hadn’t she just the other day been pondering on the fact that she could never trust Landon again? And yet one cajoling look from his blue eyes had made every rational thought flit right out of her mind. “Landon, I don’t think we can do this.”
He shook his head and cradled her face once more. “We can.”
Those eyes almost had her again, but she pushed away, scrambling for some distance, fear pounding through her. “I don’t think I can do this.”
He remained by the desk, hands propped on his hips, head tilted down, but watching her with an expression that now held a world full of sorrow and dejection instead of confident cajoling.
She spun away, pressing one hand to her forehead. “Don’t look at me like that, Lan.” Her eyes fell closed at the nickname that came so readily to her tongue. She hadn’t called him that in years. She gestured around the store. “I’m just starting to get my feet under me again. Finally gotten to the point where I’m handling things pretty well on my own. I just…” She didn’t know how to finish, so she let the thought trail away.
She could hear him coming closer, and closed her eyes, bracing herself to resist his charms. But instead of turning her to face him and forcing her to see things his way as he might have in the past, all he did was rest his hands on her shoul
ders and press a gentle kiss against the back of her head. “Life wasn’t meant to be walked alone, Zai. And I’m sorry that I was the one to make you think you needed to do that. I can see that I’ve given you a lot to think about. I’ll not push this on you, babe. I won’t. But I promise you that with God’s help, I’ll be a better man this time, if you’ll let yourself choose me. I choose you. Will you choose me?”
She pulled in a breath, fighting through the fog of want to try to ground herself in the sensible and the prudent. “I don’t know, Landon. I just don’t. I need you to leave. I can’t think with you—” She broke off with a little wave of her hand, before she said something too revealing about how wonderful his kiss had been. “I’ll let you know when I’ve made a decision.” What was the best choice? Her hands trembled when she lifted them to her temples.
It was only a moment before she heard the soft click of the door behind her.
She spun around.
Landon was gone. The room was empty. And she felt bereft.
CHAPTER 14
Everything inside Landon clambered for him to go back. To take her in his arms and not let her go until she agreed to give them a second chance. But he fisted his hands and forced himself to keep walking. All the way to his truck, which was still parked in front of Ye Olde Fudge Shoppe.
He climbed in and sat for a moment, simply staring out the window. But he knew he needed to get out of town before he went back and did something foolish that the old Landon would have done.
He drove straight to his mom’s place, hurried to his room, and fell to his knees beside his bed. He grabbed his Bible from the bedside table and flipped it open, but nowhere that he started to read brought the peace he was looking for. None of the passages seemed to speak to his soul. Not knowing where to turn to find answers, he simply pressed his forehead to the pages, in agony. “God, I don’t know if I can do this. She’s saying she doesn’t think we can make it work. What if she keeps refusing me? What am I going to do then? I gave up everything for this because I thought it was what You called me to do.”
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