by L. B. Dunbar
My hardest decision was where to locate a small business. After living near a big city for almost fifteen years, I recalled my love for the simpler feel of Blue Ridge, so opening my store in a town working to build its economy was the obvious choice. However, it meant leaving Sadie behind, and my sister wasn’t pleased. This disrupted her plan of me always being present to pick up the slack of raising Sadie.
“You won’t be able to do this on your own.” It was a projection of my sister’s fears. She’d have to step up and be a mother for Sadie as she reached her teen years. It was a difficult decision, but it had been time for me to do something for myself.
“You okay?” Grace questions as I remain before the front door staring at the pub across the street.
He might have married Theresa, I think before turning to face Grace.
“It’s been a long day.” I exhale, having no idea where thoughts of Billy and marriage to my sister came from. Grace smiles in response, and a comforting hand comes to my arm. Billy had reached for me earlier, but I pulled away. I didn’t trust his touch. Getting so many women to sleep with him made him a master manipulator, and I shiver with the thought.
“It will all work out,” Grace assures me. I’d unleashed the basic details to my co-worker and friend after leaving Sadie to stew in her room.
“I don’t even know what that means.” What do I want his responsibility to be? I didn’t plan on Billy being part of Sadie’s story yet. She came to me after Theresa’s death, and that was all the fairy tale I needed. I didn’t want to tell her anything about her father until she was older, but in hindsight, I see the trouble this could have led to, and the trouble it’s already been. Sadie needs the truth, and like ripping off a Band-Aid, she has it. I just wish so many changes weren’t happening all at once for her.
“Billy Harrington is a good man,” Grace assures me, and I snort.
“Depends on what kind of good we are discussing.” I lift a brow. Good in bed, perhaps.
“Well, he’s good to look at.” She giggles. “But I mean he’s a decent person. He’ll do the right thing.”
Again, I question what I want the right thing to be from him. Billy has questions, just like Sadie, and I’m caught in the crossfire without all the answers. I just want what’s best for Sadie. She’s my only concern.
+ + +
Two days later, I’m surprised to see Billy standing in my store again, looking sheepish with his hands in his pockets. His jeans hug him just right, and he’s wearing a Pub T-shirt with the long sleeves pressed above his elbows. His eyes scan the various shelves and fall decorations in the window, but it’s obvious he isn’t focused on any one thing.
“Can I help you?” I offer, keeping my tone professional. I must admit, seeing him standing in my bookstore for the second time in less than a week does seem like a miracle. It’s also doing things to my girlie parts when it shouldn’t be. I don’t think he’s ever been in here other than after I called the police and he nearly tore off my front door, rushing in here to verbally assault me with his displeasure.
“It was a concert. We had a permit.”
“It was loud and late, and I needed sleep.” I’d opened the store only a week or so prior, and I remember the exhaustion of doing everything on my own. The issue with being a helper is it isn’t always a personality people reciprocate. No one steps up to help me. Theresa was so bitter I left her that she didn’t bother to visit the store for three months.
“Sleep when you’re dead,” he said. “You’re only proving you don’t know how to have a good time.”
He wasn’t totally wrong. I didn’t want to make waves. I only wanted much-needed rest.
“So I’ve been thinking…” He pauses as his earthy eyes squint at something in the side window. In the bright sunlight, they glow a lighter brown but still rich and deep. There’s a reason women are drawn to him, and as I said, his eyes are one of his best features.
“Sounds like a dangerous thing,” I tease.
He scrubs a hand down his face and cups under his jaw. The scruff on his chin is dark but thin, not thick like his older brother Giant who owns the official brewery supporting the town.
“It usually is.” He’s silent after the comment, and a quiet Billy makes me nervous. His mouth opens, snaps shut, and then pops open again. “I thought maybe before I swap bodily fluids with Sadie, we should meet under better conditions.”
My mouth falls open with the suggestion, and my hands slowly lower to my hips. “You are so—”
“That’s not what I mean. That came out wrong.” He closes his eyes, and it might be the first time I’ve ever seen Billy Harrington struggle for words. It unnerves me. Where’s his fire? Where are his biting comments? Where’s his displeasure with my presence? Then again, he came into my store. “I mean before we exchange blood or swabs or whatever we need to do to test our DNA. Maybe we should meet where I’m not thrown off guard and she isn’t insulting me.”
I stiffly chuckle. “Well, I can’t guarantee she won’t insult you again, but you might be right. It might be best to give your first impressions a second chance.” I’m uncomfortable with the suggestion. I don’t want Sadie getting her hopes up about Billy and fatherhood.
“Do you think he’ll want to know me?” she whispered two nights ago while we ate dinner. Before I could answer, she sat straighter, squaring her shoulders. “Never mind. I don’t want to see him anyway.”
Even though she hasn’t mentioned him again, he’s weighing on her mind. She wants to meet him, if for no other reason than out of curiosity, and I have no doubt Billy will grow to love her.
“What do you suggest?” I can’t believe I’m asking his opinion, but I admit he looks kind of cute with the fluster on his face. Billy Harrington is attractive, too attractive for his own good.
“I was hoping you’d have a suggestion.”
“Why me?”
Billy’s eyes roam up and down my body before he scrunches his nose. “You’re a woman, like a mother figure, and I thought you’d have an idea.” Well, nice of him to notice I’m female, but somehow, the motherly comment strikes a nerve. I’m not Sadie’s mother, and with his roaming eye, it’s as if Billy suggests I’m matronly.
“Ask your own mother,” I snap.
“I can’t.” His eyes close, and he inhales. My eyes narrow on him. He’s moved from cute-frustration to ugly-exasperation.
“Why?” I growl, already concerned about his answer.
“I…” He swallows the rest of the words.
“You don’t want your family to know about Sadie,” I deduce. The precious Harringtons are like royalty in this small town along with a few other names. The Chances and the Conrads come to mind. This scandal could rattle their world. Then again, each of his siblings isn’t without their own story. It’s amazing what I’ve learned from Dolores at the diner down the street. It’s a reminder that no family is perfect.
“I’m not ready yet.”
“What does that mean?” I ask as soon as the words are a thought. “You’ve had sixteen years.”
Billy blinks at me. “Actually, I haven’t even had seventy-two hours.” His jaw tightens, and a finger points in my direction. “You’re just as guilty as she is. Was. In keeping this from me.”
I grip the finger pointed at me. Dammit, he’s right that he hasn’t known as long as I have, but I won’t fully acquiesce to him. “I’m not guilty of anything. I did what my sister wished, and it’s not like you and I are even friendly.” By crooking the finger within my grasp, he tugs me toward him, and I stumble. His other hand comes forward, settling on my hip before I crash into him. This is the closest I’ve ever been to Billy, and he smells divine. Like cloves and cinnamon and another spice I can’t identify but that makes my mouth water.
“Well, whose fault is that?” he snaps.
“Certainly not mine,” I hiss.
“You and that damn complaint.”
“You and your screeching noise.” My chest lifts and low
ers with the irritation of him.
“You and your attitude.”
“You and your…your women,” I snap. It’s the lamest comeback, and Billy’s eyes widen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You sleep around, William Harrington, so this is more your fault than it will ever be mine.” It’s a low blow even if true. I’ll never admit to seeing him with that woman, watching him a few minutes when I shouldn’t have been watching. It shouldn’t be my concern if he can’t keep it in his pants, but for a moment, I wonder if he has other children he doesn’t know about somewhere else in Georgia. My heart crashes at the possibility. I don’t really think he has a hundred children out there. It’s more the probability of him sleeping with a hundred women and none of them have been me. I’m the one woman he hasn’t tried to sleep with, and I don’t know why, but it bothers me.
“Sometimes I hate you, Roxie.”
“The feeling is mutual, William.”
However, I’m conscious of how that isn’t how I feel, and I’m equally aware of how close we stand. My hand is still wrapped around his thick finger, callused against my palm, and although I thought it was me grabbing him, it suddenly feels like he’s holding onto me. My breasts nearly brush his heaving chest, and our breaths mix with weighty tension. Our eyes lock for the briefest of seconds, and then he tugs his finger free from my grasp, shaking his hand toward the floor as though he’s discarding a piece of trash, as if my touch was filth, and I understand why he’s never legitimately hit on me.
I repulse him.
He steps back, still holding my eyes.
“It’s always my fault,” he murmurs and spins away from me without another word.
6
Blame and shame are not good bedfellows
[Billy]
When Rachel left me, my family blamed me. I was too much of a flirt. Everyone thought the divorce was my fault. They didn’t know the truth or even half of it, and I really wanted to keep it a secret for Rachel. She isn’t ashamed of who she is, and neither am I. I just wish we had both recognized the signs sooner, but life can sometimes be deceiving and difficult.
Like asking Roxie for her help.
It took courage to approach her and ask her advice about a second introduction with Sadie. I’d been thinking about our first meeting for two full days, and the scenario played out in a million different ways. But my motto is not to live in the past. I can’t change it. I’d like to consider the future instead, which seems equally as dangerous.
“I hope you aren’t getting your hopes up, boss,” Clyde warns when I return to the pub, huffing in frustration. Damn Roxie and her words. And those eyes. Her silvery orbs remind me of the color of an antiquated bracelet my mother owns. When she focuses on me, looking me right in the eyes, something happens like she’s put a spell on me and all I want to do is kiss her damn mouth.
“What hopes?” I snap at my bartender.
“Hopes that you might be her father.”
“I don’t—” I stop myself. It’s not that I don’t wish to be Sadie’s dad. I don’t know what I want, and damn Clyde for being so observant and thinking he knows something I don’t.
“It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? Hoping that it’s true. Wishing it to be.” He smiles to himself, and I stare at my friend. What are we, a Hallmark movie? Clyde shakes his head as if ridding his thoughts as he pulls the tap and fills a glass with our fall blend. His expression hardens from his easy smile as he passes the pint to a customer.
“I don’t know what I want,” I lie because deep down, like way down, I do want to be Sadie’s dad. Not that I know Sadie or think she’s anything special yet. I just think—I don’t know—I might be okay at being a dad. I’d certainly try to do better than my old man, who is a great guy by most people’s standards but didn’t have the same connection with me as he seems to have with my three brothers. And forget about my baby sister, Mati. She’s his princess.
“So what did you decide?” Clyde asks, turning his back to the bar to ring up a tab.
“I’m doing the test. I just don’t know how or when or what to do.” I scrub at my face in frustration. I can’t ask my family for help, and when I mentioned that fun fact to Roxanne, she looked as though she wanted to skewer me. She doesn’t understand. It’s not that I’m ashamed of Sadie—although there will be plenty of blame and reprimand—it’s that I’m afraid if it isn’t true, then there will be plenty of blame and reprimand. My mother will be crushed she doesn’t have another grandchild, especially as I seem the least likely to produce one. My father will shake his head, implying the thousands of lectures about keeping it in my pants.
I don’t know why he even bothered with us boys.
“You need a lawyer.”
A lawyer. My youngest brother is one, but he’s also the town mayor and doesn’t need more scandal. Then again, it’s my life, not his.
“I do, but I can’t ask my brother.”
“What about his partner?”
Jordan? “He’s still family. I don’t want any of them involved yet.” I sigh. Jordan is my nephew. My sister, Mati, has twins. Jaxson followed in her footsteps as a wild child, and he’s currently the sales director for Giant Brewing Company with a baby on the way from his baby mama. Ah, the one-night stand pregnancy might run in the family. For a moment, I want to high-five myself, but then I reconsider. Mati’s other son is Jordan. He followed his father’s path and became a lawyer. Responsible, organized, and a bit anal, Jordan studied under his father and uncle until Chris died. He took his father’s place as partner to my brother Charlie.
“Yeah, but there’s such a thing as attorney-client confidentiality, and it’s not like he’s a direct sibling.”
Clyde has a point. One I’m greatly considering. After googling paternity tests and rights of the father, I’ve found all kinds of things I don’t quite understand, so as much as I hate to admit it, I do need advice and legal guidance.
“True, true,” I mutter, patting Clyde on the shoulder and excusing myself for my office. Maybe a little bit of family will be okay.
+ + +
“You got a girl pregnant?” My twenty-seven-year-old nephew stares at me over the edge of his tortoiseshell glasses like he’s the judge and jury on my sex life.
“Yeah, well, maybe. Sixteen years ago,” I emphasize with a smirk, failing to find humor in the situation which matches the gaze he’s giving me. Suddenly, his shoulders fall, and he glances in the direction of a picture on his desk. His wife, Maggie, is a pretty brunette with sad eyes. Jordan shakes his head and then squeezes his forehead, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his skin. “It’s raining babies,” he mutters, and I question what he means. His brother’s having one, but I’m certainly not.
“She’s sixteen, so that hardly qualifies as an infant.”
Jordan releases his forehead and presses his glasses up the center of his nose. “And you don’t want anyone to know?”
“I don’t even know for certain. That’s why I’m here. I need a paternity test.”
Jordan turns to his computer and taps away at the keys. “I can order something at the local clinic that will need to be sent to Atlanta. If you test positive, we go from there. Where’s the mother?”
“She passed away.” It’s difficult to consider Trixie kept the truth from me. She should have told me. I’ve struggled with my anger for the past few days, but I can’t do anything about what I didn’t know. There’s no way to confront her now, so I’m equally sad to be swimming through this mess alone. I just need the truth.
“Right. So we file a Paternity Acknowledgment Form and then file for custodial rights.”
“What does that mean?” I question. I’m sketchy on family law, but the word custody has me bristling.
“Meaning, as her father, you have the right for visitation or, in this case, for her to reside with you. But you’ll also have some financial responsibility.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop the scenic train. Live wi
th me? I swallow loud enough Jordan gives me another judge-y glare.
“That’s what you want, right? To see her? Have her live with you?”
“What about Roxanne?” I’m a little surprised she’s my first thought, but it’s evident she’s close to her niece, not to mention Sadie knows her aunt better than she knows me.
“Roxanne is her aunt and has no legal claim to her unless specified in a will. Was there a will? Did she file for guardianship? Was CPS involved?”
Child Protective Services. “I have no idea.” I sigh, growing frustrated with my lack of legal knowledge. “Look, I don’t want her going to some random home or something. She has family.”
Jordan sighs, ignoring my rant. “Even if a will specifies Roxanne as guardian, you trump her. You have rights as her father.”
“If I’m her father.”
“Do you want to be her father?” The question doesn’t stump me since Clyde’s already asked me. I’ve been asking myself the same thing, but I still pause before I answer.
“I want to do what’s right.” I nod, as if I’m making a grown-up decision as a grown-up.
“You know, Uncle Billy, there are people who desperately want children and can’t have them. A case like yours makes people almost envious.” He glares at me once again, acting as if he’s the only adult in the room.
“Meaning?”
“Maggie and I have been trying to have children for years. Jaxson has a one-night stand and gets a girl pregnant, and still isn’t certain he wants to marry her. You…” He waves a hand toward me. “Practically the same thing happened. My mother when she first had sex—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. I don’t need the sexual history of my younger sister although I’ve overshared mine with her plenty of times. Still, I already know Mati got pregnant on one of the first few times she had sex with Chris, who had the sense to wait until they graduated high school before doing the deed with her.
