by Tori Scott
***
"You should be ashamed of yourself," Lillian scolded as Sandy brought two glasses of tea from the kitchen and handed one to her mother.
"What for?"
"Just look at you. There's no telling what was going on when I got here, but you're a mess and it took you a long time to answer the door."
"Don't start, Mom. I'm grown. I've been married and widowed. I don't think I need your advice on my sex life anymore. If you're going to stay here, that's one thing we need to get settled right now. I live my own life, not one you or Dad have set out for me."
"Well," her mother sniffed, "Maybe I should go to a hotel after all. You certainly don't need me here interfering."
"I'm sorry," Sandy told her, ashamed of snapping at her mother when it was evident she needed her support. "I'm very tired, and this has been an extremely stressful week. Why don't we start over?"
Her mother nodded and her frown deepened. "How is Melanie doing? I called the hospital as soon as I got your message and they told me she'd been released." Lillian asked. "That's why I went to your father's office, to tell him about the accident. He still doesn't know unless he thought to check the answering machine." She leaned down and took a white embroidered handkerchief from her purse, then dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. "I should have been here for you."
"It's okay, Mom. Mel's fine. She's asleep right now, but you can go see for yourself."
Lillian levered her slightly plump figure off the couch and walked slowly down the hall. Sandy watched her, wondering when her mother had gotten old. The last time she'd seen her mom, she hadn't had so much gray hair or such deep lines around her eyes. Now she looked tired and defeated, like she didn't have the energy to go on.
I wonder if she's sick? The thought scared her. Her mother had always been there for her. Many times she’d stepped in between Sandy and her father, trying to keep the peace. And even though her mother had never defied her husband outright, she'd done the best she could to comfort her children when he'd been too abrupt.
Sandy leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. A picture of Hunter, eyes hot and passionate, came to life. What on earth had she been thinking to let things go so far? As much as she liked him, she cherished her independence and had no intention of sacrificing it for any man. She'd be damned if she'd wind up like her mother, much as she loved her.
Then again, sex didn't have to lead to love and commitment. Maybe she could enjoy the physical release he'd give her without letting her emotions get involved. They could have a passionate affair, then part company as friends.
He would find someone else eventually, anyway. Men always did. It looked like even her father had fallen into temptation. But the thought of Hunter with another woman brought with it an ache so painful it took her by surprise.
So, an affair probably wasn't a good idea, either. She already felt much too close to him. Closer than she'd ever felt to Todd. She could tell Melanie was getting too attached to Jason, too. The best thing would be to take a step back, re-establish some distance between them. Her mother's visit provided the perfect excuse.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lillian returned to the living room and dropped onto the couch, her face so sad it tore at Sandy's heart.
"Mom, tell me exactly what happened today. What did you see in Dad's office?"
With a deep sigh, her mother lowered her head. "I went to the church to tell him about Melanie. I didn't want to break the news over the phone. He didn't know I was coming. When I arrived, his secretary wasn't at her desk, so I just opened the door a little to see if he was there." Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked rapidly to hold them back.
"He was. And Betty Gillespie was in there with her arms around his neck and her face buried against his chest."
"Maybe she'd just had bad news and he was comforting her." Sandy knew she was grasping at straws. Her father had strict rules about dealing with female parishioners, and one of those rules was no physical contact during counseling, and never being alone in his office with a woman. Normally, her mother would have been present during the session. "Who's Betty Gillespie? I don't think I know her."
"She's new at the church. Divorced her husband last year and moved to our part of town. I think she's about thirty years old; slim, smart, young, pretty--everything I'm not."
"That's not true. You've always been pretty and smart. You haven't let it show much, because of Dad, but I've seen how smart you really are. And just because you've gotten older doesn't give him any excuse. He's gotten older, too. Does that mean you should go out and find a younger man?"
Lillian laughed at that, the sound a little weak and pitiful. "If only I could. With all this extra weight I gained carrying you kids, no man in his right mind would give me a second glance."
"Mom, listen to yourself. You always put yourself down. You've been a faithful wife, a good mother, and a kind neighbor to those in need. You're still pretty. There are lots of men who'd love to find a woman like you. If Dad doesn't appreciate what he has, then maybe he deserves what he gets. I've hated the way he's treated you all these years. I never understood why you stayed."
Lillian looked startled. She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. "Why, I stayed because I loved him." As if it were that simple.
And maybe it was, Sandy thought. Her mother was smart, but she'd never been complex. Just a simple preacher's wife.
"Is love enough, Mom, when the person you love puts you down, talks to you like you're a bug on his shoe? Dad was always so kind and polite to strangers and acquaintances. With his own family, he was abrupt and domineering. He said things to us that he would never say to anyone else. How could you put up with that for so long?"
Her mother reached over and grabbed Sandy's hand. "Honey, I think the worst thing your father ever did was to sour you on men and marriage. What you didn't understand is that he was a product of his upbringing. His father was exactly the same." Lillian wrung her hands together as she struggled to come up with the words to explain what she meant.
"When your father was growing up, a man was the head of his family. He took care of everything for the women. He worked hard all day in the fields, and when he came in he sat down to eat and expected to be waited on hand and foot. It didn't matter that his wife and daughters had been working just as hard. Their work wasn't done until he went to bed at night."
Yeah, and it didn't end then, either. Sandy could remember her grandmother working late into the night, getting things ready for the next day. Setting the table for breakfast, laying out her grandfather's clothes, mending socks--a thousand little chores no one noticed.
"It wasn't Dad who soured me on men, Mom. Todd did that all by himself. Anyway, that's no excuse. Dad doesn't have to be like Grandpa. Anyone can change if they want to badly enough." She stood and crossed to the fireplace, staring blankly into the empty space. "I can remember all the times you cried when he said something that hurt you. And the way he'd come home after being gone all day and go straight to his study without even saying hello. What's the use in being married if you're still alone?"
Lillian stood and walked over to stand by her side. She stroked Sandy's cheek as she had so many times when she’d cried over a boy or fretted over a bad grade in school. "Honey, I was wrong to let you know those things bothered me. I got over them, but it seems you didn't."
No, she hadn’t. After Todd’s death she’d promised herself that she would never let another man use her or treat her as if she were unimportant.
Her mother tucked the handkerchief in her pocket. "I understood that he didn't want to talk after dealing with people's problems all day. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt me, because it did. All I ever wanted was for him to act like I mattered to him. But I loved him anyway. Marriage can be one-sided sometimes, but that didn't mean I wanted to leave."
"Well, you've left now. What are you planning to do?" Sandy asked, concerned because her mother had no work experience and no money of he
r own.
Lillian ran her finger over a picture of Melanie that sat on the mantel. Then she clasped her hands behind her back and looked at Sandy.
"I'm going to get a job," she declared. "Now, don't look so shocked. I think I could work as a companion to an elderly person, something live-in with a small salary. References shouldn't be too hard for me to get. Everyone knows me, knows I'm trust-worthy. And I can certainly handle something like that. I've been doing something similar most of my life. And I took care of Grandpa his last two years, so I'm familiar with the needs of older people."
When she finally took a breath, Sandy reached over and hugged her. "That's a great idea. You'd be perfect for something like that. And I even know someone who might hire you."
Lillian’s eyes lit up and she lifted one brow in question.
"You remember my friend, Brenda? She's been worried about her mother, thinking she'd have to put her into a nursing home. She wants to hire someone to stay with her, but she's been afraid of hiring the wrong person. It would only be for a month, until her broken hip heals enough for her to get around again."
"Oh, that would be wonderful. It would give me a chance to get some experience and see if it's something I'd like to do, without having to make a long-term commitment. When can you ask her?"
"It's too late tonight, but I'll call her first thing in the morning. Now, we need to get to bed." She kissed Lillian's cheek. "Goodnight, Mom."
***
Sandy locked the doors and checked the windows, a habit from living alone with her small daughter. She stopped at Melanie's door and peeked in, smiling at the sight of her baby snuggled up tight with Pooh, the nightlight spilling soft beams across her pixie face.
Leaving the door ajar so she could hear if she cried during the night, Sandy crossed the hall to her own bedroom. She washed her face and brushed her teeth in the small bathroom, then pulled on her favorite pajamas--a knee-length T-shirt with a giant Panda on the front. She turned the light off and climbed into the oak four-poster bed that once belonged to her grandmother.
The wedding ring quilt that lay folded at the foot of the bed had been a wedding gift from her aunt. She kept it as a reminder of what she didn't want to endure again. Those circles reminded her of the merry-go-round of marriage. Of going around and around endlessly for the rest of her days, never able to escape, a continuous cycle of pain, embarrassment, loneliness, and anger.
As she closed her eyes, Hunter once more invaded her thoughts. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her body. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of what had almost happened on her living-room couch. The embarrassment part of the cycle was already in place. She'd have to make sure he never got close enough to add the other pieces.
She drifted into sleep, regret tugging at her subconscious at the thought of never feeling his touch again. Her dreams were wild, erratic and erotic, bouncing back and forth between remembered hurts and renewed pleasures. She dreamed of Todd, standing far away with his arm around a young redhead as he laughed and told Sandy she could never be woman enough to keep him satisfied. She dreamed of Hunter, making love to her as he whispered that she was the only woman for him.
She’d looked forward to a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Instead she tossed and turned, unable to relax and settle down. It was all Hunter’s fault. He’d barged into her well-ordered life and made her feel things she’d never felt before. Things she didn’t want to feel, not now.
She enjoyed being independent, enjoyed not having to answer to anyone but herself. If she didn’t feel like cooking dinner, she and Melanie stopped and ate dinner out. If she put off dusting for a few days, there was no one around to notice or criticize.
The only time she really missed having a man in her life was during the long, lonely nights. But she’d even gotten used to sleeping alone. Until now. Now she wished Hunter was here, wished they could finish what they’d started. But that path would only lead to heartbreak, so she’d best not go there.
***
Hunter awoke groggy, frustrated, and alone. He’d dreamed of Sandy, of her sweet taste and eager hands. If her mother hadn’t arrived when she did, he had no doubt they would have ended up in her bed. Instead, he was pushing eighteen months without a woman. And counting.
By nine o’clock he and Jason were in Sandy’s yard armed with a lawnmower and weed eater. If he couldn’t relieve his frustration in her bed, he’d work it off. He stripped off his shirt and started mowing. Jason took the weed eater to the back yard to clear the grass around the trees.
He was deep in thought as he pushed the mower across the yard. He jumped when someone tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hunter!"
He shut the mower off and turned. Sandy stood there with her hands on her hips. He grinned at the sight of her Winnie the Pooh T-shirt and denim shorts. "Good morning." He dropped a kiss on her open mouth.
She glanced toward the house and took a step back. "Stop that. My mother could be watching."
"So? Last time I looked you were a grown woman. And a very beautiful one at that."
Her cheeks flushed and she looked away. "Don’t. Last night was a mistake."
"That’s funny. It didn’t feel like a mistake to me."
"Hunter, I don’t want to argue with you. I think we’re moving too fast. We don’t really know each other yet and I’m not ready for all of this. I’ve been down this road before and it’s a dead end."
He’d been called a lot of things in his life, but never a dead end. It surprised him how much her words hurt.
He knew she was right. They didn’t know each other. Oh, he knew she liked to wear a vanilla scent that reminded him of cookies. He knew she listened to Country music. He knew she loved her daughter.
But he didn’t know her hopes and fears, her dreams and desires. Those were things learned over days and weeks of spending time together. So the first thing he needed to do was spend time with her. But it might be hard to get her away from her daughter and her mother. Unless he got them on his side.
He almost laughed at the thought of Melanie as a pint-sized matchmaker. Sandy’s mother was another matter. She was intimidating, and he didn’t think she approved of him. But he’d think of a way to win her over. He could be persuasive when he put his mind to it.
Sandy laid a hand on his arm. "Could we just take a little time to get to know each other? Maybe, I don’t know, date some, like normal people?"
He reached a hand out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Yeah, we can do that. How about Friday night? Want to go to the opening of the new art exhibit at the museum?"
She smiled up at him. "Yes. I'd like that. What time?"
"About six? We’ll go to dinner first. And don't worry about a sitter. I have one at my house already."
"Jason? But my mother..."
"She can help him. But it will be good for him to feel responsible for Melanie. He'll take good care of her."
She nodded. "Friday night, then. I need to go, but I’ll see you later."
He watched as she went back inside. She was one fine looking woman. He went back to his mowing, whistling as he worked.
***
By Friday night Sandy was a nervous wreck. She'd changed clothes four times, put her hair up only to take it down again, and had reapplied her lipstick twice after chewing it off in agitation. Melanie picked up on the tension and was cranky and demanding, wanting her complete attention.
The doorbell rang and sent her heart rate into overdrive. She wiped her sweaty palms on a hand towel in the bathroom and checked her lipstick once more in the mirror. Thankfully, it was still in place. At the second ring, she headed for the door.
She opened it, expecting to find Hunter. Instead, Jason stood there. "Hi, Jason. Come on in. Where's your dad?"
"He'll be here in a few minutes. I wanted to come over ahead of him to get whatever instructions you have and make sure Melanie's comfortable with me being here."
Impressed with his mat
ure attitude, Sandy smiled and led him inside. "That's a great idea. Come into the kitchen. I have a list of things you might need to know posted on the refrigerator."
She went over the list with him, explaining things he had questions about. Her mother would be there if he needed help, but Jason probably knew more of Melanie’s likes and dislikes than Lillian did. "If you have any questions or problems, you can call us on your dad's cell phone." The doorbell rang again and they both headed for the living room.
"Don't worry. We'll be fine," Jason assured her again.
Sandy opened the door to a very handsome man all decked out in suit and tie, holding a bouquet of daisies and carnations. Her already racing heart fluttered. Before Hunter came along, the only ones she'd ever received were in the obligatory corsage pinned to her prom dress, and those had come from a sixteen-year-old boy. Too young to count. Now she’d received flowers twice in one week.
"You look beautiful," Hunter said, his eyes traveling slowly from her hair to her high-heeled sandals. The desire in his gaze sent a spiral of heat through her, making her wish they could skip dinner and go straight to dessert. Which, of course, was impossible. The whole purpose of the date was to give them a chance to get better acquainted, to find out if there was more to this attraction than simple lust.
"You look nice, too," she replied, knowing her statement was weak compared what she really wanted to say. But with Jason watching every move they made, it was best to make this sound like a casual outing between friends. "The flowers are lovely. Thank you."
They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, then she realized Jason was still watching them closely. She cleared her throat. "Well, I'll just go put these in water and tell Melanie good-bye." She hurried to the kitchen, feeling nervous and excited all at once.
***
Alone. The word reverberated in Hunter's mind. They were completely and totally alone. It was the first time they hadn't had someone else nearby, in another room or just down the hall. He wanted to go someplace where they could pick up where they'd left off a few nights before. If only he hadn't promised Sandy that they would get to know each other better, spend time together in casual dates, before he made any more moves. Shoot. Sometimes he needed to keep his big mouth shut and not promise things before he'd thought them through.
