"I go to Kelley."
It took me a second to realize he was talking about the university. "You go to college?" I couldn't help the shock that leaked into my words.
His cheeks colored. Whether it was from anger or embarrassment—I wasn't sure.
"Are you going to replace our drinks?" the woman across from him piped up. "I don't mean to be rude, but you did spill nearly half of my drink."
My head turned and I stared at Gabby Jr. with renewed interest. Her returning stare was completely blank. With horror, I realized that she had no idea who I was. I'd never been able to make it through even a first date without at least one story about Travis leaking out. I guess I'd just always assumed he'd be off somewhere doing the same thing.
Apparently, while I'd been busy sabotaging myself by being stuck in the past, he'd been shacking up with Malibu-freaking-Barbie.
"He broke my arm," I blurted out.
The color drained from Travis' face as his lips twisted into a grimace. I dug my fingers into my sides anxiously. Only the slightest look of surprise crossed over Gabby Jr.'s face before she resumed her passive stare.
Travis rose from the booth, putting us far too close together. I took a half-step back.
"Outside," he barked at me. Apparently, I didn't start moving fast enough because he felt the need to add, "Now."
I folded my arms in front of me defensively, summoning up every last bit of strength I had. "I'm not going anywhere with you. We both remember what happened the last time I did."
"You don't get to—"
Whatever he was going to say was cut off when his companion stood up and jerked at his arm.
"Travis. You're drawing a lot of attention." She nodded pointedly towards the rest of the bar, where the few other patrons had begun to gawk at the scene we were making. "Let's just go."
Already, Gabby Jr. was reaching into her stupid, expensive purse and throwing a twenty dollar bill down on the table. I tried desperately not to mentally compare it to the cheap diaper bag that I usually carried, but I couldn't help it.
"I'm not going anywhere," he stated firmly as he stared down at me.
The woman huffed. "But Mack won't like—"
"Mack's not the coach anymore."
A realization started to form in my head. Travis hadn't seemed nearly as surprised to see me as I had been to see him. Plus, the reference to a coach. It could only mean…
"You're still playing football?" That surprised me even more than the discovery that he was in college. The last time I'd seen him, it had seemed pretty certain that he'd never play his beloved sport again.
"Yeah," he answered uneasily.
"Does Vinnie know?"
"Yeah," he repeated. "I ran into him already."
"Oh." No wonder Vinnie had been so desperate to try to talk to me.
Travis stepped towards me, lowering his voice as if he didn't want his girlfriend to hear him. "Ronnie, I think we should talk."
Hearing him call me by my nickname made my shoulders tense. "Don't call me that."
"Sorry. Veronica, then."
"Don't call me that, either."
He fell silent for a split-second before saying, "Hey, you. Let's talk," in a dead serious tone.
If the whole situation wasn't so fucked up it would have made me laugh. Travis had always been good at making me laugh. But I wasn't about to give him that kind of satisfaction.
"I have nothing to say to you," I forced myself to say in a voice that sounded far calmer than I felt.
"Laurel can tell you, this isn't a very big town. We're bound to keep running into each other. We should clear the air."
Gabby Jr.—Laurel—laid a comforting hand on Travis' arm. The sight of it made my stomach turn. I wasn't ready to see him with someone else. I was pretty sure I never would be. My head was throbbing as I took a step backward. Then another.
He took a step towards me as I retreated, almost as if he planned to follow me. Laurel tugged on his arm to stop him. She stretched up on her toes to whisper something into his ear. Whatever it was she said, it worked. He froze and watched silently as I retreated all the way to the bar. My eyes found his again just before I slipped into the kitchen.
It hurt to see how good he looked standing next to Malibu Barbie. They looked right together, and that only made my heart ache more.
"Everything okay?"
I turned around to find Hazel staring at me in concern. I could only imagine how ruffled I looked after that ordeal.
"Yeah," I lied. "Everything's fine."
Travis
My hands were literally sweating.
I had no business going back to The Burgundy knowing full well that Ronnie had no interest in seeing me. Somehow, I'd found myself parked out front anyway. I wasn't even sure she was still there.
That was a lie.
Earlier, I'd checked to see what cars were parked in the parking lot. There had been a familiar black SUV parked behind the bar. Vinnie had driven a car just like that years ago, which meant it could easily have been a hand-me-down from him to Ronnie. If that hadn't been enough evidence on its own, the University of Tennessee sticker on the back window had been a dead giveaway. I distinctly remembered Vinnie having that sticker from his alma mater.
The same SUV was still parked in the back, so I knew her shift hadn't ended.
The problem was that I couldn't seem to convince myself to go inside. As teenagers, I'd been so certain that Ronnie's appearance was already perfect. Nothing could have prepared me for the gut-wrenching discovery that she'd grown even more attractive, her teenage body having grown into that of a woman. Her softened curves made me imagine all the places I'd like to put my hands on her.
I'd hated the way Ronnie's face had fallen when she'd seen Laurel speak into my ear. If only she'd known what Laurel was saying.
"I have no idea what's happening right now, but you should come back later. Freaking her out like this isn't going to win you any favors."
Never in a million years had I expected Laurel to show a supportive side. It turned out the woman was quite full of surprises.
Two hard knocks alerted me from the window of my car door. Hazel stood on the other side, one hand stationed firmly on her hip. She motioned for me to roll the window down, and I obliged.
"You're scaring my customers."
I groaned and let my head fall against the steering wheel.
Hazel clicked her tongue. "Does this have something to do with that new girl I hired? Is she defective? Should I fire her?"
"Fuck, no," I grumbled. "If you fired her she'd probably hunt me down and murder me."
Hazel smiled fondly, making it clear that she'd had no intention of firing her regardless of what I'd said. "She is a bit of a fireball, isn't she?"
"Yeah, she is."
There'd always been a quality about her that seemed a little untamed. It was what had drawn me to her in the first place.
"The fellas seem to like her."
"What?" I shot up in the seat. "Are they bothering her?"
Hazel snorted with laughter.
"Talk about a Romeo and Juliet story. The bartender and the alcoholic. Well, how about that." She shook her head, amusement twisted up the corners of her lips.
"How did you know?"
"That you were an alcoholic?" I nodded. "Honey, I own the only dive bar within a hundred miles. I can smell an alcoholic the second they step through the front doors. Besides, ordering a plain Coke every time you come in is sort of obvious, don't you think?"
"That sounds like one very fucked up superpower."
"Oh, absolutely."
"Am I really scaring your customers?" I asked, remembering her original statement.
She reached into the car and patted me on the head like a dog. "An Incredible Hulk wannabe is sitting in the parking lot glaring at the building like he's thinking of dismantling it with his bare hands. Yes, dear, you're really scaring the customers."
"I am not a Hulk wannabe."
&n
bsp; Hazel's eyes looked pointedly at the bulging muscles I'd developed. The coaches had all ridden me pretty hard about my workouts after I'd been left taking Carter's starting position.
"Anywho, are you coming in, or what?" she prompted.
"I'm not so sure it's a good idea…" I eyed the front door wearily.
"Well, that's just a load of poppycock. Get in there and get your lady!"
I stared at her in bewilderment.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I get a tad bit excited for a good love story."
"Ronnie doesn't even want me to be in the same room as her."
Hazel shrugged off my words. "On second thought, go buy some flowers first."
"What?" My mouth gaped open at her.
"Flowers. They'll help de-thaw some of that ice."
"Hazel, with all due respect, I don't think flowers will do the trick."
She tapped her chin. "What about a gift for her daughter? Veronica has such a soft spot for the girl. I'll bet that would do the trick."
My heart shuddered to a stop. Not just my heart, but my lungs, too. I'd just assumed she was living alone with Vinnie. If she had a daughter, did that mean the girl's father had moved with them? Were the two of them still together? I couldn't imagine someone as strong as Veronica letting some guy get away with being a deadbeat dad. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring. It had been one of the first things I'd looked at when she'd surprised me by showing up at the table. A dozen different questions blurred my mind.
Ronnie had a daughter.
"Single mothers aren't so bad, I'll have you know." Hazel's words were indignant. I had a feeling she'd misconstrued my silence.
"Is she a single mother?"
Hazel seemed to think about it. "I don't know, actually," she admitted. "I guess I just assumed since the only man she's mentioned was her brother."
I was torn between anger—at the hypothetical man that had left Ronnie to raise a daughter alone—and the thrill that shot through me at the realization that Hazel had just given me an idea.
"I'm not coming in," I said to Hazel as I turned the key in the ignition.
"Why?" she managed to ask over the sound of the car starting.
"There's something else I need to do."
"So you're not coming in at all?" Her lips turned down.
I shook my head.
She pouted like one would expect a child to do. It was easy to forget sometimes that she was old enough to be my grandmother.
"I have a plan," I told her, winking conspiratorially.
Veronica
Goodnight Moon.
I'd turned the hardcover book over in my hands so many times that I was starting to make myself dizzy. I slid my fingers over the worn spots, picturing small hands clutching it. Opening to the front cover, I stared at the spot where large, sloppy letters spelled out Travis' name in a child's handwriting. A memory assaulted my senses.
"That was my favorite book as a kid," he'd said when I'd plucked the book off his bookshelf.
"Goodnight Moon, huh? Read it to me," I'd requested as I laid back on his bed.
His parents hadn't been home, which meant we were in the house alone together. He'd looked at me hungrily, like the last thing he wanted to be doing was reading. He'd humored me, though. Perched on the bottom edge of the bed, he'd read to me from the book. I'd nearly fallen asleep listening to his deep voice rolling over the words of the children's story.
My heart felt so full it could burst as I told him,"I liked it."
"Enough to read it to our own kids someday?" he'd teased.
"Most definitely."
Vinnie's footsteps echoed as he meandered into the room. Gabby had gotten most of the boxes moved out of the oversized room, which meant there was a lot of empty space left over.
"What are you still doing out here?" His brow furrowed as he studied me.
I'd gotten home from work in time to put Stella to bed and then I'd been sitting there on the couch ever since. My brother and sister-in-law both must have been able to tell something was up, because they'd kept their distance for most of the night.
I ignored his question and instead asked one of my own. "Do you have pictures of me and Stella in your office?"
"There's one of you that I put up on the wall, but I haven't put up any of Stella. Why?"
"Did you mention Stella when you saw Travis?"
Vinnie's jaw visibly tightened, his shoulders raising defensively. "I tried to tell you."
"I know." My nerves felt like they'd been rubbed raw. "But I need to know if you mentioned Stella."
"Of course not."
"Not even as a passing comment? Or by accident, maybe?"
"No, Ronnie. I know for a fact that I didn't mention Stella in front of him. I would never have done that to you." I shoved the book in his direction. His looked bewildered, but he took it from me.
"I think he knows," I said, my voice quivering.
"Huh?"
"Open it."
He turned to the first page, the same way I had when I'd first picked it up. I could tell the exact moment he realized what the inscription meant because his face reflected my own horror.
"Did you talk to him about this?"
I shook my head. "He didn't even give me the chance. When I got out of work the book was sitting there waiting for me. Travis was nowhere to be found."
I neglected to mention the part where it had been sitting in the passenger seat of my locked car. I hadn't forgotten the days when Travis and I had learned to pop open car locks for fun. Somehow, I didn't think Vinnie would appreciate that information.
"How could he know?"
"I have no idea," I groaned, throwing my hands up in exasperation.
"What should we do?" That was the great thing about Vinnie. He always thought of us as a team—a slightly bigger team since Gabby had appeared on the scene, but a team nonetheless. It was exactly why I'd ended up living with him to raise my daughter instead of with our parents.
Our parents weren't bad parents by any means, but they were much older than the average set. They hadn't meant to have me. I'd been a very late surprise, showing up well past when they'd expected to have children. They were retired now, with no real interest in helping to raise another kid—even if she was their only grandchild. I couldn't exactly blame them for that, which made Vinnie's help all the more valuable.
"We should get some sleep," I suggested. "I don't have the energy to deal with this tonight."
Vinnie stared at me worriedly. "I could schedule a meeting with him, talk to him for you. If you wanted me to."
I shook my head more intensely than before. "There's no use causing a fuss before we even know what we're dealing with. Maybe we're misreading this." The sour look on Vinnie's face told me he believed that about as much as I did.
"It's tomorrow's problem," I insisted.
Vinnie gave in, agreeing to put it to rest for the night. I imagined that had something to do with the dark circles I was sure had developed under my eyes.
I made my way to bed but slept fitfully. Every time I closed my eyes I was plagued by a combination of those old memories mixed with that strange feeling I'd had seeing Travis with his girlfriend. By the time morning came, I'd barely slept more than a few hours collectively.
"Mama?"
I rolled over, my tired eyes opening painfully to find Stella doing her best to climb up into the bed next to me.
"Here, baby," I said, reaching over to help pull her up.
She curled into my side with her blonde curls tickling me under my chin. A satisfied sigh escaped me. No matter how bad a night I'd had, nothing could ruin a moment like that.
As we lay there silently, I noted all the ways she looked like her father. They had the same blonde locks, though it was less obvious now that Travis had cut his short. Her wide brown eyes were like a carbon copy of his. Their noses, too, had the same curve along the bridge. I'd accused him when we were younger of having his nose broken in a fight, but now I knew th
at he hadn't been lying when he'd said it was genetic.
"Brea-fast?" Stella finally mumbled out.
"I'll bet if we ask really nicely that we can convince Aunt Gabby to make us some pancakes."
Stella shot up in the bed, somehow managing to find her balance well enough to stand all the way up despite the bounce of the mattress. She nodded so hard that she looked a little like a bobblehead. I held back my laughter.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stretched my arms. A heavy yawn graced my lips. I wasn't scheduled to work, at least. That meant I'd probably be able to sneak in a nap when Stella took hers. I'd barely gotten my feet up under me to stand when Stella launched herself into my arms. Luckily my reflexes were quick enough that I caught her just in time.
"Silly girl. You definitely didn't get any of that impulsiveness from me," I joked, even though she wasn't old enough to understand what I was saying.
I swung her around to my hip and made my way out of the room. Gabby had apparently managed to read my mind because we found her standing in front of the stove in the kitchen. She'd already cooked a stack of pancakes that were sitting on a plate on the counter. I could already smell the syrup waiting for us at the table. I tucked Stella into her high chair and went to work fixing her plate.
"Vinnie told me what happened last night." She didn't look up from flipping pancakes, which I was grateful for.
"Mhm."
"Are you feeling okay?"
"Just tired." I stabbed a kitchen knife into Stella's pancake with far more pressure than necessary.
"I could keep Stella today," Gabby offered. "Maybe you could go talk to him. Clear the air, you know?"
The knife fell from my hand, clattering to the counter. It startled Gabby, who turned to look at me for the first time since I'd walked into the kitchen.
"There's nothing to clear the air about." My voice was firm.
Gabby's eyes sought out Stella from across the marble kitchen island. "The two of you were only teenagers back then, Veronica. Maybe things would be different now. How will you know if you don't give him the chance?"
One Wrong Move Page 3
