by Ev Bishop
Chapter 22
The candle from their picnic was still glowing, and, perhaps happy to hide a little in the shadows, they didn’t bother to turn on lights. They sat on the couch together, turned slightly so they could face each other. Katelyn pulled the patchwork quilt onto her lap and carefully avoided touching Brian. He knew her restraint was smart, but all he wanted to do was continue where they’d left off. He couldn’t resist reaching out and twining a strand of her hair around his finger. It shone softly in the dim candlelight.
“So that was some practice date, hey?” she said when the silence stretched too long.
He shook his head. “I’d been wanting to do something special for you, but when I arranged everything, I sincerely thought it was going to be a casual night of feasting as good friends. But now . . . ”
“Now what?”
“Now I’m wondering if I haven’t been lying to myself ever since we met. Maybe every time we hung out was a ‘real date’—from my side anyway.”
Katelyn sighed. “I know. I’ve been worrying about that exact same thing. For me, I mean.”
Brian put his arm over her shoulder and she leaned in, took his hand, and laced her fingers through his. They were quiet for a long time, then Brian said, “Why does this feel more like some kind of sad good-bye than a hooray, we’ve found each other?”
Katelyn studied his face, then touched his bottom lip with her pointer finger. Her expression was anything but happy and it made his heart clench.
Before she could say anything, he spoke quickly, “You know earlier, when you asked if there was a kind of woman I hadn’t dated, and I said, at least one, but I didn’t elaborate?”
“Yeah?” Her whisper was as soft as lace brushing cotton.
“I’ve never dated anyone who convinced me two people could really be meant to tackle life together, or who made me wonder if some people are stronger together than apart. But when I’m with you—”
Katelyn winced and she pulled her hand from his. “You don’t know how simultaneously happy and destroyed that makes me feel. There’s a part of me, such a huge part of me, that wishes we could see where this goes, but . . .”
“But it’s too complicated, right?”
Katelyn’s eyes filled, and she nodded. “I’m sorry though, I really am. And I want to thank you so much.”
Brian shook his head.
“For being such a good guy, such a fun guy—and for reminding me that I’m not dead yet. Because of you, I can almost believe that someday I might have someone to really share my life with, someone I can be myself with, talk for hours to—and want to tear the clothes off of.”
Brian wanted to argue his case, to say it couldn’t be a fluke that they’d fallen for each other so strongly when they’d both been the furthest thing from interested in pursuing a serious relationship when they first met. They had to be meant for each other, or at least meant to spend some time together finding out if they were. But his gaze touched on an eight by ten frame directly across from the bravery quote. Katelyn, Lacey and Sawyer grinned out at him, dressed in outlandish clown costumes, arms wrapped around each other. And this time, he was the one who winced. He had to make life easier for Katelyn, not harder. She had enough on her plate, and he did really, really like her. Cared for her. Unfairly and paradoxically, he realized that meant he could only do one thing: back off.
He took a deep breath and forced a jocular tone he didn’t feel. “It’s probably for the best, though I admit you make relationships not seem like the next best thing to root canals. But then again, dentists always go on about ‘painless dentistry’ nowadays—and that’s a myth too.”
Katelyn smiled wistfully and shrugged, but he was sure she saw right through his stupid joking. Just like at the Spring Fling, he experienced a weird plummeting sensation in his gut as he imagined Katelyn laughing and holding hands with some faceless future man, in some time and place when things were different and her life wasn’t so volatile. But why did it matter so much? So they’d shared a kiss—albeit a hotter one than he’d ever known, but still just a kiss. And they talked a lot. So what? He could talk to someone else. He’d branch out a little. They were running buddies, and that’s where they’d leave it. He could let her go, because there was hardly anything to let go of. He was Mr. Happy to be Single Guy, right? He’d never wanted the complications and shackles of a committed romantic relationship before, so why start now? It was probably the combination of losing his home and staying with Jo and Callum, a.k.a. Mr. and Mrs. Lovefest. It was messing with his head, but he could get back to normal. Absolutely he could.
On the coffee table in front of them, the candle that had burned so brightly all throughout their picnic and the rest of the evening flickered and went out.
Chapter 23
A knock sounded on Spring’s front door, but Katelyn knew who it was, so her heart only raced a little bit harder—out of reflex, not true fear.
“Come in,” Katelyn hollered from upstairs. In the living room beneath her, Sawyer and Lacey echoed her, “Come in, come in,” and Monster yipped.
Moving quickly, Katelyn laced her ivory jumps—similar to stays, but tied up the front, not the back, and not as tight, which was helpful for working and breathing, to say the least—over a square-necked peasant blouse. Then she tugged on faded skinny jeans and finished the outfit with vintage drop earrings and kelly green flats.
After she’d wrapped her braided hair into a coronet on the back of her skull and pulled a few tendrils loose to frame her face, she headed down.
Aisha stood chatting with Lacey and Sawyer, little Mo propped on her hip. She eyeballed Katelyn’s outfit and whistled. “Okay, it’s official. I no longer want to be paid for childcare. I want you to sew for me. Every single thing you wear is always so weird and cool.”
Katelyn laughed. “That’s quite the compliment.” And it was. Wearing whatever her imagination conjured or her mood dictated felt fantastic. It had taken months of separation from Steve to feel comfortable doing her own thing, or to be unconventional if she chose to. Even now, two years later, she still occasionally heard his criticism in her head: You look like a slut. You dress like a kid, not a wife. Why are you always trying to attract other men? You look like a crazy person.
When she’d unpacked in her first new place, fresh from leaving him, it had appalled her to realize that all her clothes were sedate neutrals, two sizes too big. She’d vowed then that she’d return to wearing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.
“Sorry, pardon?” she asked, realizing Aisha was saying something again.
“Oh, nothing really. I just asked if work was going well.”
“It is, thanks. Very well, in fact. Sometimes I wish I had more time to sew for fun and maybe to sell, like you suggested, but mostly I’m just grateful they took me back.”
Aisha gave a derisive snort. “Whatever. More like they’re lucky to have you.”
Katelyn laughed. “Well, thanks.”
“How do you afford it?”
“Well, it’s not easy, but I’m managing. Jo’s giving me a real break on the rent because of my sewing, and at least paying you to watch the kids means we’re both benefitting—”
“No, not how do you afford childcare, though I do feel bad. I know paying me eats into your paycheck. I meant how do you afford to dress so well and buy all the fabric you need for all the things you make?”
Katelyn winked. “I’ll never tell.”
“Witch,” Aisha exclaimed with feigned outrage.
“Yep, the worst witch ever,” Katelyn agreed, cackling happily. It was pure delight to have a friend with a kindred passion for making something new or better from something old and discarded. “I repurpose everything. This outfit cost me about three bucks. The fabric is from a beautiful old top sheet that I picked up for a buck at a thrift store.”
“Wow.” Aisha shook her head, as if a bit awed. “Nicely done. And is free sewing time the only thing you miss now that you’re back at
work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I kinda thought you might be missing spending all your surplus time with Mr. Lawyer-slash-hot-body.”
Katelyn giggled, then shot a concerned look at her kids, but she needn’t have worried. For once they were oblivious to her. They were sitting under blankets they’d pillaged from their beds and draped over the couch to make a fort, sing-bellowing the ABC’s to Mo, who was shrieking with joy and trying to copy them.
“Well, I do kind of miss Brian,” Katelyn admitted. “But I don’t know. Maybe the enforced time apart is actually good.”
“I get it. Way easier, hey?”
“You said it. Speaking of which. Have you heard any more from—” Katelyn had been about to ask after Mo’s father, “the sperm donor” as Aisha called him, but her phone’s alarm dinged. It was time to get moving.
“Ah, saved by the bell,” Aisha announced. “But yeah, we’ll talk. Later.”
Katelyn climbed into the fort, kissed each of the kids good-bye, including Mo, then clambered back out and grinned at Aisha. “Bring me a sheet you like. I’ll get you into jumps in no time.”
“Awesome—and I mean it about paying for your time with babysitting.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I’m serious! Also, if, I mean, when, I open my shop, I want you to sew things to sell in it.”
“I wish.” And Katelyn did wish, but not with any sense that it could ever be a reality, more like it was a nice daydream. Right now, and for the next foreseeable years, she’d feel blessed beyond measure to just keep making ends meet.
The car took a few tries before it started, and every time the engine turned over without grumbling to life, Katelyn’s stomach flipped too. She couldn’t afford car problems right now—but then it was purring, and she was off. She couldn’t help but notice that Brian’s jeep was, as ever, long gone before she was. And on that note . . . she had done pretty well and managed not to spend all morning mooning over him, but now, with the kids in Aisha’s capable care and a long commute ahead of her, she was free to think of nothing but Brian. His smile. His kindness. The way he seemed to like spending time with her, genuinely, not merely as some means to some end. As she thought about him, a peaceful sense of happiness flowed through her, holding her anxiety about their relationship at bay—at least for a little while.
Since their not-a-date date, his suggestion that she might be someone who convinced him two people could be meant to tackle life together, could be stronger together than apart, had rattled around in her head constantly. And she had come to a conclusion. He was right. Except that he was that person for her. The one who made her wonder if she could have real love. Made her want to. Made her think the potential gain might be worth the risk.
And even though meeting some man and forming a new relationship had been the furthest thing from Katelyn’s plans, a person couldn’t control everything and shouldn’t even try. It was, perhaps, the only lesson she’d learned from her years with Steve that she appreciated. You couldn’t—and shouldn’t—control everything.
In fact, now she was not only wondering if she should take the scary leap into exploring a deeper relationship with Brian, she was starting to believe she’d have permanent regrets if she let Steve keep her from doing so.
Facing those truths made something else clear too. She was going to get a divorce. Whether or not she and Brian had a future together as anything more than friends, it was time to make it crystal clear to Steve that he and she did not. They were over and she was going to gather the courage to make that final.
With a good fifteen minutes to spare before her shift started, Katelyn sat in her car in the employee-only parking lot behind the fabric shop, called her lawyer, and started the divorce ball rolling.
Chapter 24
Instead of the calm sense of control and belonging his pristine office usually fostered, Brian felt jittery and out of place. He paced the perimeter of the room, then stopped at the coffee maker and poured another ill-advised cup of coffee. He set the mug on his desk and sank into his office chair. Then he hopped to his feet again, leaving the beverage untouched, and paced some more.
If he was doing the right thing, why did he feel so unsettled? Because you’re selfish, an inner voice—his mother’s—prodded. Men never think of things from the perspective of the women in their lives. They can’t. And in this case, you just want to find some loophole that will allow you keep pursuing what you want, to hell with the consequences.
Well, maybe the voice was right, but for Pete’s sake, he was certainly trying to consider Katelyn’s feelings. He’d thought of practically nothing else since the night of that stupid picnic. He’d known then he needed to back off. And why. And he knew it now. And he even knew the easiest way to go about building space between them, so why was he still hesitating weeks later? If he didn’t stop waffling, he’d not only lose out on the opportunity that had arisen out of the blue, he would make things that much more difficult for Katelyn and himself. That painful fact jarred him into action. He strode back to his desk, picked up the phone, pressed nine for an outside line, then dialed before he could change his mind.
“Brian? Hello, long time no talk. Is that really you?” The cooing enthusiasm pouring from the other end of the connection almost undid Brian’s resolve. Curse call display. Of course, the office’s name and number had shown. And of course, Naomi put two and two together and got six.
“Hey, Naomi. Yes, it’s me—and yes, it’s been a long time.”
“Too long. Extremely too long!”
Brian cringed. “Listen, I was wondering if we could get together and—”
“I’d love to. Love to.” Her voice dropped, became throaty. “If you only knew how much I’d been hoping you’d call.”
And talk, he’d been going to say, get together and talk. He shrugged. If Naomi was that happy to hear from him, who was he to crush her? Besides, he needed a place to stay that wasn’t River’s Sigh—or, more importantly, wasn’t right beside Katelyn and the kids. In a perfectly timed coincidence, he’d heard that the tiny suite above Naomi’s garage was available. He wasn’t going to kill his chance to rent it by telling her she’d misunderstood his reason for calling—or not over the phone, at least. And who knew? Naomi was pretty and sporty and fun. Maybe when they met in person again, he’d be able to stir up some of the feelings she so obviously hoped he still had.
You’re a shit, Brian. The words were so sharp they were nearly audible, and for half a second he thought someone had joined the call to tell him off. But it was just his brain. And his brain was right. He could be pretty shitty sometimes, but he didn’t mean to be. He sighed.
“It’ll be great to see you and catch up, Gnome,” he said, using his old nickname for her out of habit, “but I have to be honest. Nothing’s changed since I left. The reason I’m calling is I heard you have a place to rent and I’m desperate.”
Naomi inhaled and when she spoke again, her voice, though still friendly, was definitely dampened. “I should’ve known. Well, at least no one can ever accuse you of stringing a girl along.”
“I’m—”
“No, don’t be sorry.” Brian could almost see her shaking her head. “It’s all right—and of course you can check out the suite. I told a girl at work that I’d hold it for her until next week though, so I can’t promise it’s yours.”
“Fair enough.”
“Where are you staying right now?”
“With Callum and Jo at River’s Sigh.”
“Sweet. Do they still do that amazing Saturday brunch that’s open to the public?”
“Yeah—”
“Great! I’ll come by Saturday, we can eat and catch up and then you can come see the place.”
“Oh . . . okay. Tomorrow doesn’t work?”
“No, I’m on graveyards and need to sleep. I’m wiped. You’re lucky, caught me before I went to bed for the day.”
There was a beat of silence, then Naomi chuckled lig
htly. “Not even a small joke about joining me? Damn, I guess we really are over.”
“I’m—”
“Nu-uh. No sorrys, I said. It’s fine. I’ll see you Saturday. Tell Jo to make extra coffee. I’ll need it.”
After the call ended, Brian tried to tell himself it had gone well and that he was relieved. He had no doubt that in person he’d be able to talk Naomi into renting to him instead of the other nurse. And, as he’d established and reiterated enough times in his head to drive himself crazy, getting away from River’s Sigh B & B, away from Katelyn, was best for everybody. So why did he feel so bad?
Chapter 25
For maybe the first time ever, Katelyn wasn’t desperately unhappy that the kids were with Steve. She was on a mission that she wouldn’t have tackled with them in tow. She skipped down the porch stairs, inhaling deeply as a stomach rumble inducing aroma of pumpkin pancakes, fresh bacon and espresso kissed her senses. It was as if River’s Sigh’s dining hall itself was trying to lure her to breakfast. Like she needed another lure! She practically sprinted down the trail.
When she opened the hall’s heavy door, she hesitated. It was full of chatting, laughing bodies. Katelyn recognized a few guests from the other cabins, but lots of people had come from town too, as was the Saturday custom. She steeled herself. It didn’t matter. If it was too loud, they could sneak outside. Katelyn felt like a bouncing ball of happy nerves as she walked into the crowded room. It had been weeks since she’d taken part in one of the breakfasts—Jo and Callum were giving her and the kids a good enough deal as it was without feeding them too—but she’d noticed Brian’s jeep, miraculously still present in the parking area. She couldn’t wait another minute to talk to him. She was desperate to say that if he wanted to start officially seeing each other, to see where things might lead, she was in—and that she had asked for a divorce to prove it. Marilee would have the documents prepared by Monday, and Steve would be served his copy early the next week. Her glee ratcheted up a notch to something closer to anxiety—
