When the waiter left again, Taryn took a sip of her water and settled back into her chair. She had a direct view outside, and the entire lake was submerged in shadow from the mountains. The baby had settled, and she could feel him hiccup, which always made her smile. She was looking forward to holding him, looking into his face...but she couldn’t picture what he’d look like.
“So how is everyone?” Angelina asked.
“I have...a situation,” Belle said, and Taryn pulled her attention back to the table.
“Oh?” Renata said. “What’s going on?”
“So you know how I’ve been dating Philip?” Belle said. Everyone murmured assent. “The thing is, he doesn’t want me to meet his parents. I’m not sure why! He says it isn’t me and that his family would love me. But...” She paused. “He says I’m too beautiful to stay with him.”
“What?” Angelina shook her head. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“He says that he’s not the kind of guy who can keep a woman like me interested for the long haul,” Belle replied.
“He’s managed to keep you interested for the last six months,” Gayle said.
“That’s what I told him,” Belle replied. “But he says he wants to wait. So...I guess we wait.”
“What does he think you’ll do?” Jen asked.
“Leave him, presumably,” Belle replied. “You know this isn’t the first time I’ve had this problem. I find a really nice guy, and he gets intimidated. I don’t want some cocky rich guy with a Porsche. I’ve dated them before—they’re horrible. They treat you like another acquisition. I want a real man with a real heart. That’s what I want, but Philip has this whole insecurity that I’ll be swept off by someone richer and better looking.”
“Is he a nice guy?” Taryn asked.
“That’s a good question,” Gayle murmured.
“No, he really is,” Belle insisted. “He’s a kindergarten teacher at the elementary school here in town—” this was said to Taryn “—and he’s got this wonderful way with kids. He’s kind and funny and sweet... He’s a good one, I promise. He’s just...insecure.”
“Sweetie, if he isn’t superexcited to have you on his arm, he’s an idiot,” Renata said. “Look at you! You’re stunning. You’re a literal model.”
“Ex-model,” Belle corrected her.
“Oh, semantics!” Renata shot back. “You know what? Of all of us, you’re the one who can walk into a room and just shut it down with your good looks. And I don’t think you should have to dull your shine for an insecure man.”
Taryn had to agree there. Just then the wine and sparkling juice arrived, so they all had their glasses filled accordingly, and when the waiter left, Angelina lifted her glass.
“To second chances,” Angelina said, and turning to Taryn, she added, “and to new friends.”
They all clinked their glasses, and Taryn couldn’t help but smile as Renata turned back to Belle, not to be so easily put off.
“Belle, I think you need to let us set you up with a man worthy of you,” Renata said earnestly. “Seriously. Philip is just a dear, I’m sure, but you need someone stronger than that.”
“I need someone sweet and ordinary—”
“You’re only one of those things,” Angelina added with a laugh.
This group of friends was like a breath of fresh air, and Taryn took another sip of sparkling apple juice and listened to the women debate Belle’s problem.
If only she’d had something like this in Denver...but a dinner club of divorced women who completely and sincerely supported each other wasn’t exactly easy to come by. She could see why Angelina was protective of this group.
But it was this kind of support and sincerity that needed to be shown in Taryn’s ad campaign. Because if anything would draw people to this gorgeous mountain lodge, it would be a stunning glacier-fed lake, and this kind of heart. As Taryn could attest, it was hard to resist.
* * *
NOAH PULLED INTO his sister’s driveway, and all four kids were at the living room window to wave at him while he got out of his truck. The sky was dusky, and he could smell the aroma of barbecue coming from behind the house. Henry, his sister’s husband, would be out there cooking up a feast.
The front door flung open and Aaron, his eldest nephew, came outside to stand barefoot on the steps.
“Hi, Uncle Noah!” he called.
“Hey there, Aaron,” Noah said, and he locked the vehicle with a blip and headed up toward the door. “You’re taller. Come here. Let’s measure.”
Noah always measured the kids against his side, every single visit. And honestly, they grew pretty fast, but he made a much bigger deal about it. Noah measured the top of his head against his torso.
“Holy smokes, kid,” Noah said. “You’re huge. What happened? Did you eat your vegetables or something?”
“No,” Aaron said, and laughed.
“No? What? You’ve got to be eating your spinach and brussels sprouts and broccoli, and—” He cast about, looking for more veggies his nephew hated.
“I don’t eat any of that!” Aaron retorted. “And I grow anyway. That’s a hoax.”
This was a new development since Noah had last visited. He shot his nephew a look of surprise.
“No, it isn’t,” he said. “I got muscles because I ate my veggies.”
“You were lied to by the Man,” Aaron countered, and Noah couldn’t help but laugh at that.
The other kids came tumbling outside, and Nicholas, the five-year-old, had to be measured, too, and told that brussels sprouts were key to his growth and muscles. And then came the twins, Micah and Libby, who were only three, but who still tried to be involved in everything. He always told the twins that they needed more cake, which was the big joke, of course, because they were the babies of the family and therefore got favored in every way. Noah scooped up Libby in his arms and kissed the little girl’s cheek as he headed into the house, where his sister waited with a smile. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her face was flushed from the heat. She wore an apron that read “Baking is better than punching people,” which just went to explain his younger sister’s sense of humor.
It was hot inside, all the doors and windows flung open to capture some breeze, and Laura reached out and gave him a hug as Libby reached for her mother. Laura scooped the toddler up and set her down next to Micah.
“Okay, let go of your uncle,” Laura said. “Aaron, go outside and see if Daddy needs anything, and Nicholas, go into the garage freezer and get me three cans of lemonade, okay?”
While his sister marshaled the kids, Noah let out a long breath. He was comfortable with being the uncle, but that was because Laura and Henry did all the actual work. Noah called a hello to his brother-in-law, who was flipping burgers at the barbecue, and when the kids had been sent on various errands, Laura leaned against the counter and fixed him with a serious look.
“So, you’re going to be a dad,” she said.
“I don’t know about the dad part,” he said. “She might not want me terribly involved. I’ll be a father, though.”
Laura’s expression turned mildly incredulous, but she didn’t say anything.
“I’m in shock, honestly,” he said. “But I’ve told her that I’ll do whatever I can. I mean, I don’t want my son growing up wondering if his dad cared, you know? Like we did.”
“Our father was a horrible person,” Laura replied. “Good riddance.”
And that had always been Laura’s stance. Their father had refused to marry their mother after they’d been living together for about five years and both Noah and Laura came along. Laura was an infant when their father left and never came back. Noah had tracked him down once, just out of curiosity, and he’d found a guy who wasn’t working, did a lot of drinking and pot smoking, and when he discovered that Noah was his son, the first thing
he did was try to borrow money.
“Yeah, I know,” Noah replied. “I agree. But you know who I do miss? Tom.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Tom was terrible with kids. Do you know what Mom said about him? She said he was part of her pattern in choosing the wrong guys.”
“Yeah, I guess...” Tom wasn’t exactly exemplary father material. He’d put Laura on a long leash attached to a spike in the lawn so that she wouldn’t run off when she was about four. He’d let Noah start the car for him when he was only about six. Tom had taught him how to light matches, and he’d let him watch his first knock-out boxing match when he was seven or eight, and Noah had had nightmares for years afterward.
“I heard from him, though,” Laura said. “He’s on Facebook now.”
“What?” Noah blinked.
“Get on Facebook with the rest of the world, and you could reconnect with people, too,” Laura said with a short laugh.
“Maybe I should,” he admitted. “What’s he doing?”
“He runs a dog rescue,” she replied. “It looks like it’s a pretty big setup, too.”
“Did you talk to him at all?” Noah asked.
“Briefly. He’s the one who found me, actually. I asked how he was. He’s married again, but no kids—no surprise there. I told him about Henry and the kids—that was about it,” she replied.
“Oh...”
“He asked about you,” she said.
“What did you tell him?”
“Oh, that you’re a general manager now, and doing really well.” His sister pulled out her cell phone, flicked around on the screen and then passed it over. “Those are the pictures on his Facebook profile.”
Nicholas came back into the kitchen with the frozen lemonade cans—six of them, and two dropped from his grip onto the kitchen floor.
“How many did I ask for?” Laura asked, taking them two by two from her son’s arms and lining them up on the counter.
“I don’t know.”
“Think. How many?”
“Eight.”
“No...” She held up three fingers.
“I don’t know.”
“Three, Nicholas. I asked for three. Now, how many did you bring me?”
While his sister tried to explain some basic math to her five-year-old, Noah tuned them out and flipped through the pictures. It was a strange relief to see Tom’s face again. He hadn’t changed that much. He was grayer now, and a little heftier, but he had the same easy smile, the same creases around his eyes. A few pictures showed Tom sitting on the front steps of an old house, his feet bare and a beer in one hand, a large dog sitting next to him, tongue lolling out of the canine’s mouth. There were other photos of him at his dog rescue—standing with big bags of kibble, and squatting next to various dogs, a reassuring hand on their backs.
“So you bring these ones back to the freezer, okay?” Laura was saying to Nicholas. “And close the freezer!” Nicholas ran off in the direction of the garage, and Laura hollered after him, “I mean it! Make sure the freezer is closed!”
Noah looked down at Tom’s familiar grin. He was the closest to a dad that Noah ever got.
“I miss him,” Noah said, his voice low.
“We had Mom, Noah,” Laura said. “She worked her fingers to the bone to take care of us and make sure we could get an education. The men came and left. They weren’t worth much.”
“I liked Tom, though,” he said.
Laura sighed. “Mom deserved the credit. Tom was like an extra kid in the family. She needed a partner, not a liability.”
Those were his mother’s words.
“I know.” And he couldn’t argue with it, either. Their mother had been fierce, hardworking, devoted. She’d always put Noah and Laura first. They’d never lacked anything, and even now he wasn’t sure how she’d done it all. She’d been a great mother... And they missed her deeply.
Would Taryn be like that—the protective, determined mom who made sure that their son got everything he needed? Would his son grow up with no reason to complain, but with some hollow feeling inside of him all the same because of the dad he never knew?
“With Mom gone, you don’t ever think about Dad or Tom?” Noah asked.
“No,” Laura replied. “I think about Mom. That’s who I think about—the one who raised us.”
Right. Laura had always been the loyal one. She’d sided with Mom on everything.
The door opened, and Noah looked up to see his brother-in-law come into the kitchen, Aaron in tow.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Henry said. Henry was tall and lanky with a generous smile. “Good to see you, man.”
“Hey, Henry,” Noah said with a grin. “I’ve been promised burgers, I think.”
“I’ve got some ribs going, too,” Henry said. “They’ll melt off the bone, guaranteed.”
Noah handed Laura her phone, and the family moved into dinner mode. Laura handed a wooden spoon to her husband and pointed to a juice jug.
“You mind, Henry?” Laura said. “We need to make the lemonade.”
“Sure,” Henry said, accepting the wooden spoon and heading to the counter.
“Aaron, I need you to get the carrot sticks from the fridge,” Laura said, turning in a circle, and scooping Micah up as he reached for a plate of barbecued burger patties.
“I’m not eating carrot sticks,” Aaron muttered, heading toward the fridge.
“Of course you are,” Laura replied. “Didn’t your uncle tell you that veggies build muscles?”
Aaron rolled his eyes and Laura froze, pointing a finger at her son. “Watch the attitude, young man.”
“I hate carrots,” Aaron retorted.
“Since when?” Laura said.
“Since now,” he shot back. “I’m not eating that. You eat it if you think it’s so great.”
Noah saw the color drain from his sister’s face. That kid was playing with fire.
“Come on,” Noah said, forcing a smile. “Muscles, remember?”
“Hoax, remember?” Aaron retorted, meeting Noah’s gaze defiantly.
The kitchen fell silent, and Noah eyed his sister, wondering what she’d do. Aaron had always been relatively easy to handle from what Noah could see, but this was a whole new stage.
“Aaron, you want to try that again?” Henry’s voice dropped an octave. “Apologize to your mother.”
“Sorry...” Aaron muttered.
“Like you mean it!” Henry barked.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“And apologize to your uncle for being rude,” Henry said.
“It’s okay,” Noah said quickly. “Don’t worry about it. Just kids being kids, right?”
This was uncomfortable enough as it was. Henry ignored Noah and eyed his son meaningfully.
“Sorry, Uncle Noah.” The boy’s gaze flickered toward him and then to the floor.
“Good. Now get the carrot sticks like your mother asked,” Henry said.
Aaron went off to do as he was told, opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic tub.
Laura looked across the kitchen at her husband. They exchanged a smile and they each mimed a high five.
Laura and Henry had it under control. Noah was just the uncle, and apparently, fooling around with the kids wasn’t enough to get compliance anymore. Aaron was nine now—the attitude was starting.
Aaron’s ears were red, and he carried the carrot sticks to the table, refusing to look up at anyone. Noah watched him go, but didn’t say anything. This sort of thing made him feel awkward. He was used to being the uncle the kids would make nice with. What happened now if they started to get defiant with him, too?
“I want a hot dog!” Libby announced, running into the kitchen, her twin brother behind her. “I want a hot dog!”
“How about a hamburger?” Henry said, scooping
her up.
“Hot dog,” Libby said seriously.
“Hamburger.” Henry tickled her, and she squealed, then he put her back down next to Micah, who seemed less interested in dinner than he was in the cat’s water dish.
These were parents—people who knew how to handle this group of kids. Henry was good at being a dad—the right mix of serious and fun.
And Noah was going to have a son of his own...one who’d get just as defiant as Aaron one day. Would Noah even be around to tangle with the boy, or would he be a biological fact in the background somewhere?
He had a suspicion he’d end up more like his stepdad—fun, well-intentioned and not much use to the mother. He’d tried this before, and he couldn’t help but remember that last talk Tom had had with him before he left.
They’d sat on the porch together, Tom’s bags already loaded into his pickup truck.
“I’m just not good at this, Noah,” he’d said.
“Yes, you are,” Noah had pleaded. “You’re good with me.”
“Your mom disagrees there,” Tom replied. “And...maybe I’m not so good with your mom.”
Noah hadn’t been able to argue that. Tom hadn’t made Noah’s mom happy, and they all knew it. Mom had cried an awful lot the past few years. There were too many arguments, too many words neither of them could take back.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Tom had said, pushing himself to his feet. “I tried.”
And Noah had known that Tom had tried. He’d done his best. It just hadn’t been enough. The best of intentions weren’t enough. It was the follow-through that mattered.
CHAPTER FIVE
WHEN TARYN GOT back up to her suite that evening, she’d left the Second Chance Dining Club still at the table talking and sharing some leftover ice cream the servers had brought out for them. That was one of the perks of being friends with the owner. But Taryn was tired, so she’d said her goodbyes and headed upstairs.
She stepped out of her heels, which was an immense relief for her poor, swollen feet, and flicked her phone’s ringer back on. She’d missed a text from her mom.
Hi Taryn. Your grandmother called. You haven’t visited her yet, and she wanted to know if you were dead, or just ignoring her. So...maybe visit Granny? We’re all hoping she’ll listen to you.
Harlequin Heartwarming June 2021 Box Set Page 6
