Heartfire

by Karen Rose Smith

  She suddenly realized how sad that thought made her.

  Later that evening, Tessa finished reading a story to Ryan and closed the book. He'd snuggled up against her and didn't seem eager to move away. She'd tried to put the grocery store conversation she'd overheard out of her mind, but it bothered her. Should she tell Max about it? Or should she pack up her bag and computer and move to a motel?

  Ryan stirred against her. What would be best for him?

  Squiggling sideways, he took his bear from atop his new bed.

  She kept her arm loosely around him. "How do you like your new room now that you've been sleeping in it a while?"

  He stuffed his bear further into the crook of his arm. "It's great. I dream about driving all those cars." He pointed to the walls.

  "Maybe on Saturday you can show your friends your room."

  "I can?"

  "Sure. Friends like to hang out in each other's rooms."

  When Ryan didn't respond, she asked, "Are you looking forward to your party?"

  He grinned. "I can't wait to be Robin Hood. Jimmy said he's gonna be Spiderman. His mom made his costume."

  Jimmy and five other seven and eight-year-olds would be invading the house Saturday evening. Ryan had decided himself who he wanted to invite. "Do you and Jimmy play together much at school?"

  Ryan shrugged. "Sometimes."

  She could tell she wasn't getting anywhere with that angle. "You know, you don't have to wait to have a party to invite someone over. Maybe sometime Jimmy or someone else can come and stay overnight. Wouldn't that be fun?"

  Ryan shrugged again.

  "Friends make life more fun."

  "I have you and Dad," Ryan mumbled into his bear.

  "Sure, you do. But it's nice to have all kinds of different friends to do things with—go to the park or movies, play games."

  He raised his head. "Do you have lots of friends?"

  She had a few friends, but mostly she had neighbors who brought in her mail, acquaintances who met her at a club, colleagues who discussed work. "I don't have too many friends because I move around so much. But I had a very best friend once—your mom."

  Ryan squinted his eyes as if he were trying to remember Leslie. "She was pretty. Dad has pictures."

  "She was pretty and wonderful and she loved you very much." Tessa wished Ryan could have known Leslie longer, could remember her better.

  Ryan regarded Tessa carefully for a moment, and she thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. She held him a little tighter. "Honey, if there's anything you ever want to talk about, anything that's bothering you, you know you can tell me or your dad."

  Ryan avoided her gaze and played with the ribbon on his bear.

  Tessa waited but when he still said nothing, she didn't want to push him. Kissing the top of his head, she moved away. As she stood by the side of the bed, Ryan scooted down under the covers.

  She adjusted them under his chin. "Good night, pancake. I'll see you in the morning." She switched on the night light on his chest of drawers, turned off the overhead light, and closed his door.

  ***

  Max heard Tessa come down the stairs as he emptied the dishwasher. He knew every creak in the house. He knew the sound of Tessa's footsteps. He also knew the smell of her shampoo, the softness of her hair, the crinkle of her nose right before she smiled. He didn't know if his "friendship" idea was working for her, but it wasn't working for him. He'd thought the decision would be enough, that the attraction would abate, that he could treat her as he treated...a colleague. Wrong.

  She'd been quiet this evening. He suspected something was bothering her. Was she ready to fly off to somewhere new? Was she getting bored? He'd better prepare himself for that because it could happen at any time. He was surprised she'd lasted in Jenkins this long. He glanced at the baking supplies she'd left stacked on the counter. He had to admit she was giving Ryan her all and he should be grateful for that.

  Tessa's sneakers squeaked on the tile as she walked across the kitchen. She held out her hand for a dish.

  Max smiled and gave it to her. She stowed it in the cupboard where it belonged.

  "Ryan all tucked in? He appreciates hearing a story read by someone other than me."

  "Max, do you think I should find a room somewhere or move into a motel?"

  He felt as if she'd sideswiped him. "Where did that come from?"

  She closed the cupboard that held the dishes. "Maybe my being here is confusing for Ryan. When I leave—"

  The phone's shrill ring interrupted. It rang again.

  Max snatched up the phone with a sharp, "Hello."

  After listening for a few moments, he said, "Sure, that's not a problem." He kept his eyes on Tessa as she put away the glasses. Her sweatshirt was oversized, but Max could envision her curves all too well from when he'd felt her pressed against him. "I'll see you at seven-thirty." He hung up, ready to return to his discussion with Tessa.

  She shoved a juice glass onto the shelf and closed the door. "You have an appointment in the morning?"

  "The principal wants to see me," he said quickly, wanting to get back to the subject of her moving out.

  She glanced at him sideways as she took the silverware from its holder. "Do you know why?"

  Something in her voice caught his attention. "No. It could have something to do with a student, scheduling, basketball."

  "And it could be something else," she mumbled, opening the drawer.

  "Like what?"

  The forks clanked into place. "Like me living in your house."

  "You can't be serious!"

  She separated the spoons from the knives, still without looking at him. "I overheard two women at the grocery store today. It was as if they were talking about some scandal. High-school teacher lives with reporter."

  "You're overreacting."

  "Not if there are rumors about you and me flying all over town. Even Mr. Weaver said..."

  Max took the remaining silverware from her hand, dropped it in the drawer and closed it. "What did Al say?"

  "That he knew we were 'close.' How does he know anything?" Her gaze met Max's and he could see the worry there.

  He blew out a breath and hooked his thumbs in his back pockets so he wouldn't be tempted to caress her face and soothe the worry away. "This is Jenkins, Tessa. It's a small town. People talk. Ten percent of what they repeat is true. Ninety percent isn't. Everyone knows that."

  "Maybe your principal doesn't. Max, you're a teacher. I don't want to put your reputation or your job in jeopardy."

  Tessa was worried about him. It was an unfamiliar feeling. No one had cared or worried since Leslie... "Is this why you were thinking about moving out?"

  She turned and picked up a towel lying on the counter. "I don't want to cause problems for you or Ryan."

  He wished she'd just be still. But that wasn't Tessa. "The best thing for Ryan is for you to be here. Can't you see that?"

  She folded the towel in half, then in half again. "But if he gets too attached and I leave..."

  "He's already attached, Tessa. In between your visits, he talks about you often. He looks forward to you coming the same way he looks forward to Christmas. I wonder if you aren't more afraid that you're getting too attached to him. Do you want to move out?"

  She hesitated, and he saw her grip tighten on the towel.

  "You're starting to feel closed in, aren't you?" He moved a step closer to emphasize his question. "We're taking up too much of your time, aren't we? Cutting into your work, keeping you tied down. That's what family does, Tessa."

  A hurt look came into her eyes. "I wouldn't know."

  He reached for her, but she backed away. The silence separated them as much as the physical distance she'd put between them. Wasn't that best for both of them?

  Maybe so, but he didn't like it. He couldn't keep the edge from his voice. "You don't have to help with this. I know you probably have something you need to do. By tomorrow evening, we'll know whet
her your living here is an issue. We can deal with it then." It unsettled him to think about Tessa moving out. But he'd better get over it. She'd be leaving soon, anyway.

  He returned to the dishwasher and pushed in the top rack. By the time he lifted a casserole from the bottom one, Tessa was gone.

  ***

  Tessa worked on Ryan's costume the next day while waiting for Max to get home from school. Leslie's sewing machine was temperamental, and she'd ripped out more seams than she'd sewn in. But then her patience was in short supply today. She was anxious to learn about Max's meeting.

  She'd asked herself over and over if she felt crowded, if she was resentful of Max and Ryan cutting into her work time. Neither was a problem. She had plenty of time all day to work. Being with Max and Ryan in the evenings felt "right." That's what scared her. Since when had staying in one place felt "right?" And when she thought about leaving, she had this sinking feeling in her stomach she didn't understand.

  She pulled the forest green material away from the needle and examined the puckered cloth. According to the instruction book, she didn't have the tension set right.

  Hearing the back door open, Tessa went still. She recognized the thump of Max's briefcase on the counter and followed the sound of his footfalls as he came into the living room.

  "Where's Ryan?" he asked as he came around the sofa and gazed at the Halloween decorations that had been stored in the garage. Earlier today she'd set a scarecrow on the hearth next to the fireplace and perched a stuffed black cat near the television. In the windows she'd hung pumpkins. She noticed that Max didn't miss the Indian corn arrangement on the mantle.

  Her gaze traveled up Max's long legs to the wide breadth of his shoulders. He was wearing charcoal dress slacks and a blue-and-grey cardigan sweater. His grey striped tie settled in the V neck was still knotted and straight. She didn't think he'd ever looked more handsome...or more serious. She was almost afraid to hear what he had to say. Suddenly she realized she didn't want to leave. That thought almost panicked her because of its hidden ramifications.

  Remembering he'd asked a question, she laid the tunic on the cushion next to her. "Ryan went with Flo to pick up Scruffy at the groomer's."

  "Even trimmed, that dog still looks like a mop," Max said ruefully as he restlessly paced across the room and picked up the black cat.

  "Well?" she prodded.

  He set the cat back in its place. "You were right about rumors. The principal asked me about you."

  She couldn't seem to find her voice. When she did, it was husky. "Should I leave?"

  His brown gaze bored into her. "Do you want to?"

  "No." The word came out in a rushed puff and hung in the silence that followed. She couldn't be sure, but some of the lines on Max's face seemed to relax with her answer.

  He loosened his tie and tugged it open, letting it hang around his neck. "Weaver attended the meeting, too. I told them both that you were a friend of the family, and you're helping me with Ryan."

  "They accepted that?"

  "Why shouldn't they? It's the truth!"

  It was, but maybe not the whole truth. "There still might be talk."

  Max savagely pulled the tie from around his neck. "Look, Tessa, you know nothing's going on between us, I know it and now the powers-that-be know it. I told them I had to do what was best for Ryan and for the time at hand, your being here is what's good for him. Anyone who has a problem with that can talk to me face to face."

  He was making it perfectly clear he wanted her in his house for Ryan's sake, not his. What else could she expect? She'd left him once before, and he expected her to leave again. And she would be leaving in a few weeks.

  Wouldn't she?

  "It's probably a good thing I'm going to New York next weekend. The word will get around, and people will realize I'm not here to stay."

  Max didn't seem relieved. "When are you leaving?"

  "Early Friday morning."

  "And when are you coming back?"

  "Sunday."

  "Have you told Ryan yet?"

  "Yes."

  "And?"

  She felt as if he were giving her the third degree. "He didn't ask any questions. I think he's excited about the Halloween party and that's foremost in his mind."

  Max looked around the room again at the decorations Leslie had either bought or made. "Do we have everything we need?"

  "I'd like to buy pumpkins to make jack-o-lanterns."

  He brought his attention back to her. "I know a farm on the outskirts of town that sells apples, cider and pumpkins. We could take a ride after supper. Ryan would probably like that."

  But what about you? she asked silently. "I've been cooped up all day with this. I could use the fresh air."

  He frowned. "Tessa, if you'd rather be working..."

  "I didn't say that, Max. A ride in the country will be nice."

  He gazed at her speculatively for a moment. "I'll go change. Anything started for dinner?"

  She waved at the sewing machine. "Sorry. I didn't have time."

  Max crossed to the hallway. "We'll stop and get fast food. Ryan would eat it every night if I'd let him."

  As he walked down the hall, Tessa sank deeper into the couch, letting her head rest against the back. He didn't expect anything of her. In a way, that made her sad.

  Chapter Nine

  Max stepped into the kitchen Thursday after school and entered...chaos. Three pumpkins sat on the table, their tops crookedly chopped off. Scoopfuls of pumpkin pulp and seeds lay on last night's newspaper, making it soggy. The smell of burnt something lingered in the air, and he thought traces of smoke hung in the corner above the stove. The kitchen window was open, and cold air blew in. But it was the flour that really caught his attention. It was everywhere. Across the pastry cloth spread on the counter, in bold fingerprints on the cupboards, across the front of the sink, but most of all—smudging Tessa.

  She stood at the mixer, dipping a spatula into... He didn't know what it was. It was white and drippy. Her jeans were covered with white splotches from where she'd wiped her hands.

  As Max closed the door, Ryan ran into the kitchen. "Tessa, somethin's wrong! One side's longer than the other. And it's so long. And it waves on the bottom. And it won't stay up!"

  When Tessa turned toward Ryan, she looked...devastated. "Oh, Ryan. Come here. Let me see."

  She crouched down in front of him. The costume, if one could call it that, had slipped off one shoulder. One sleeve was definitely longer than the other. The seams puckered and the bottom hem looked like a drunken scallop.

  "It's like a dress!" Ryan wailed.

  "That's because it's long," Tessa explained. She slipped her belt from her jeans and held it around Ryan's waist for effect. Avoiding Max's gaze, she muttered, "That's worse."

  Ryan looked up at her with wide brown eyes. "Do I hafta wear it?"

  Max intervened. "Come here and let me see." Hunching down, he folded the longer sleeve under and settled the tunic up on Ryan's shoulders. "Maybe if you wear a shirt under it—"

  "Honey, you don't have to wear it. I guess I'm just not a very good seamstress. I thought I could do it without a pattern."

  "What am I gonna wear for the party? I told everybody you were makin' me Robin Hood."

  Knowing he had to do something to allay his son's dismay, Max held Ryan's shoulder. "We can go buy a costume."

  Ryan's lower lip trembled. "That's not the same."

  "I know it's not," Max commiserated with his son. "But Tessa did her best and—"

  Dismissing his platitude, Tessa crouched down again next to Max. "Honey, I will make you a costume. Let me think about it until after supper, okay?"

  Ryan hesitated for a moment, then solemnly nodded.

  Max stood, his knee brushing Tessa's. A jolt of current forked through him. Friends, he repeated to himself. Simply friends.

  Tessa straightened, too, and rumpled Ryan's hair. "Go take that off. Toss it into my room on the bed." As Ryan left th
e kitchen, she avoided Max's gaze and went over to the mixer.

  Last night, he couldn't believe his relief when she said she'd stay in his house. Yet, he'd told himself it didn't mean anything because she was merely doing it for Ryan. "I know how much time you put into that."

  "It wasn't my best, Max. I don't know why you said it was. If I had more time, I could do it right. Just like I could do the jack-o-lanterns and the cookies and the icing..." Her voice broke.

  Max had never seen Tessa in this state. She was actually close to tears! He'd always thought of her as composed and confident and not giving a damn. Taking her by the hand, he tugged her toward the living room.

  "Max, what are you doing?"

  "We're going to talk." When they reached the sofa, he gave her a little push and she sat. "Tell me what happened today."

  Tears welled in her eyes as she glanced at the sewing machine sitting on the coffee table. She blinked fast as Max stretched his arm along the sofa behind her. "Not much. After I finished his costume, I had to run to the store again. I didn't know what a pastry cloth was. The dough wouldn't stick together and I guess I rolled the cookies too thin because the first batch burned. The bowl of icing got too hard to spread because I was working on the pumpkins, so I guess I added too much milk the second time and... Oh, Max. I was trying so hard to make this special for Ryan like Leslie would have—"

  Max couldn't keep his arm from coming around her shoulders. "You're not Leslie."

  She sucked in a breath and paled. "Don't I know it. You're used to the way she cooked, the way she took care of Ryan—"

  "You can't take Leslie's place."

  Tessa moved away from him. "No, I can't and I was stupid to try."

  He stilled, shaken by her words and their underlying implication. "Are you trying to take Leslie's place?"

  Tessa's chin came up and fury blazed in her eyes. "Are you trying to be purposely cruel?"

  "No. I want to know why you're so upset. The Tessa I know wouldn't give a damn about all this. She'd cut her losses and move on."