Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Jean Oram

  She pulled in a long, calming breath. Maybe if she was the one he saw first when he opened the door she could make sure it turned out all right and she could act like this was simply a social call to see how he was doing and she could somehow shield him while redirecting everyone away. Away. Away. Away. Yes, she could do it.

  She could feel it.

  Okay, she couldn't quite feel it, but she was hoping a lack of good feelings wasn't a bad omen. She bit her lower lip. Maybe he was trying a new career or hobby right now. What if they were interrupting some sort of 'find yourself' epiphany?

  She turned to the group. "Hey, has anyone heard of Oz trying any new hobbies lately?"

  Basically, if nobody saw him exploring new hobbies... and he hadn't made any changes... and he hadn't asked her back... then maybe things really were as bad as his mom thought.

  They group looked at each other in question, everyone shaking their heads. "Nope. Why?" asked Cynthia.

  "Just asking," she said with a sigh. She rubbed her throbbing hand, wishing they'd installed a doorbell like Katie had frequently suggested. She'd give anything to have Oz's strong, warm arms pull her in right now. To have him kiss her deep—in that way that made her feel like she'd finally come home. Like she belonged somewhere special. How he'd look her deep in the eyes, his face's lines relaxing as he told her he loved her.

  She tried the doorknob. Locked.

  It figured. He thought to lock it now that he lived alone and not back when they were getting friendly all over the living room and risked people popping in at inopportune moments. She selected the correct key on her keychain, slightly bothered she still had it even though it signified the hope she kept secreted away. She released the lock and let out a breath.

  He hadn't changed the locks.

  Hope swelled along with relief and she swung the door open.

  She could do this.

  She stepped over the threshold and just about melted as the trailer's heat pummeled her. She faced the group and tried to ignore the way everyone stared at her with raised eyebrows, acting as though she had the right to play welcoming hostess rather than unwelcome intruder.

  Harvey gave her a nudge. "Lead the way."

  Peeved, she stepped inside the small entry and cast a cautious look around. The place was a disaster. Apparently he was also discovering whether he missed having a clean place to live.

  "That boy needs to grow up and clean up or else hire a housekeeper," Harvey grumbled from behind her.

  Beth cleared her throat and called, "Oz? Are you home?" Her voice caught on the word home.

  The blinds were drawn in the living room to her right and the room's heat and darkness created a suffocating sensation. She pushed her way between the couch and coffee table which was littered with take-out bags. She opened the blinds and cranked open a few windows, letting a cool evening breeze enter the room. She turned to the group who was crowded into the entry acting similar to a herd of deer caught in a big rig's headlights. "For crying out loud you guys, come in," she chirped.

  People trickled in, quietly seating themselves on her favorite velvet couch and standing at the edges of the room. Framed photos of her and Oz that had once lined the shelves were either missing or face down. But the bowl of lemon drops on the coffee table was as full as ever. "This place heats up so fast," she said to nobody in particular, ignoring the candy. "I swear you take a nap and wake up in a sauna a half hour later. It cools off quickly though. We should be fine in a minute."

  Angelica shooed Beth out of the room like she would ruin a surprise party if she didn't go grab Oz. Footfalls landed on the porch steps and Beth paused as Scott, the town's bulkiest police officer, took up post just inside Oz's front door, taking up much of the entry.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "Serve and protect," Scott said. "That's my job."

  "Who are you going to protect? And from what?" She shook her head. This was getting ridiculous. Why not just invite Mary Alice and get the humiliation over with? Everyone could have a grand old time at their relationship's expense.

  "Um..." he replied uncertainly.

  "I think you should go," Beth said gently.

  Scott frowned in Angelica's direction. "Uh. I think maybe I should stay?" He met Beth's eye, his expression serious. "In case."

  "In case of what?" she asked, eyes narrowed, hands on hips. "Someone breaks the law?"

  Scott gave a few rapid blinks and straightened his back. "I'm staying."

  "Fine. Whatever." Beth's flip-flops stuck to the kitchen's linoleum as she went to go find Oz and the muffled sound of a toilet flushing drifted from the opposite end of the trailer. Seconds later Oz staggered into the kitchen, ruffling his messy hair. He yawned and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and in one fluid movement, cracked it open, guzzled it, and tossed the empty in the sink. He grabbed a fresh carton before noticing Beth standing at the far side of the room.

  He froze as if trying to determine whether she was an apparition.

  Several months ago she would have believed a week's worth of stubble would have been a sexy look on Oz, but right now he only looked broken. She resisted the temptation to walk across the room and pull him into her arms.

  Oz pulled his t-shirt over his gut and stepped toward Beth. "What are you doing here?"

  She whispered, "There are people here to see you."

  Oz cocked his head and slowly made his way to the living room, his bare feet making little shucking noises as he crossed the room. Beth let go of the chair she'd been using for support, flexing her hands so the blood would return. She crept to the living room doorway to listen. She remained a few feet behind Oz with Scott, a solid wall, to her right.

  His parents spoke in quiet, careful tones, a light breeze drifting through the room. Beth stared at the floor, deaf to their words. Angelica and Harvey went silent. Oz slowly turned on his heel, shoving an accusing finger at Beth.

  "An intervention? Why can't you let me have the time and space I asked for?" He turned back to the group. "You've all watched way too much TV if a man can't go on a weekend bender without this bullshit."

  Scott made shushing noises from the doorway.

  "Oh, Scott. Fuck off all ready," Oz said, tilting his chin up in challenge. "This is my house. You should all be tossed out for breaking and entering and ganging up on a guy who's trying to enjoy his evening." He looked Beth straight in the eye. "Alone."

  "Oz," she said, trying to find her courage, the word alone hitting her hard. "We're here because—"

  "Give me the key." He held out his hand and Beth heard the whispers begin. She slowly fumbled his key off her chain and handed it to him, ignoring the pain. She blinked away the brimming tears. He tucked the key in his track pants and after fishing through his pocket held out his fist, palm down. Hesitantly, she held out her hand and he opened his fist, dropping her engagement ring. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, hope bubbling up.

  "Keep it or not. Whatever you want—"

  "Oz!" snapped his father as gasps and indignant murmurs spread around the room.

  Beth wobbled on weak legs as she stared at the ring resting on her palm. She placed her other hand on the wall for support.

  "I thought you were on my side," Oz said quietly. "I thought you understood."

  Her head snapped up and she searched his tired, haggard face, seeking a connection. "I am on your side." She took a step closer and Oz shook his head, stepping away. His jaw was so tight, the muscles in his cheeks were bunched liked marbles. "I'm always on your side." Her voice broke and tears streaked down her cheeks.

  "I need more time, and you need someone. I can see that I can't be who you need right now. I can't bear to hold you back from your dreams, Beth. I'm setting you free, because I love you."

  "I don't want to be free," she blurted. She ignored the gathered group and through her tears said, "Neither of us are worth anything without the other. We're our best when we're together."

  Angelica joined them in th
e doorway, her face pinched with worry. "Don't do anything you're going to regret."

  "Mom, butt out," Oz said evenly, his eyes never leaving Beth.

  "Oz!" barked Harvey. "Show some respect."

  "I want to be there for you," Beth said, reaching out to touch his arm. "To help you."

  "And you need help, young man," added his father. "What you're doing to our business—"

  "It's not ours any more, Dad. Jesus." He whirled around, his eyes flashing like a caged animal seeking an exit. "Let me life my goddamn life!"

  Beth gently laid a hand on Oz's arm. "It's okay to need someone."

  "She's right," said Angelica.

  Scott nodded and a chorus of um-hmms came from the living room.

  Oz dragged his hands down his face. "You guys are never going to get it. I need to do this alone." He let out a shaky breath.

  "But you're not doing anything," Beth said.

  "Just because I'm not telling everyone every little thought and detail in my life it doesn't mean I'm not doing anything. Some people prefer privacy so everyone will stop their fucking interference and can't offer opinions or advice every fucking second."

  "Language!" warned Oz's father.

  His mom piped up, "We're just—"

  "Completely nuts! All of you! You're going to drive me around the bend." His voice rattled like a loose muffler as emotion coated it. "All I ever hear from everyone is when am I going back to the business? That I can't give it up. That I'm wasting—that I'm making a mistake—that I can't let Beth..." He caught Beth's eye and slowly looked down. He seemed to shrink half a size as he let out a shaky breath. He leaned past Scott to push the door open. "Just go. Everyone just go."

  Beth crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not leaving."

  Oz opened his mouth, stopped, closed his eyes, then gripped Beth's hands in his and said carefully, "You need to move on. I can't give you what you need right now."

  "Yes, you can," she said in a sure voice, stepping closer. She gave his hands a squeeze, hope surging through her. "I don't need anything. I can wait. This isn't about me, it's about you."

  Amber sparks lit up in Oz's brown eyes and he snatched his hands from hers. He took a step back, his linebacker build shaking with pent up emotion. "If you can wait, then why are you with him? You don't even realize what you need."

  Beth felt as though he'd spit in her face. This was where he was supposed to sweep her up into his arms and carry her into the back bedroom and pour his soul into hers. Not this. "I love you, Oz." Her voice trembled. "I love you. And I have for years. That's not going to change."

  "We need more space." He took another step back.

  Someone said, "How can she give him more space? They're already on break and he just gave her ring back!"

  "There is something wrong with that man," someone else whispered.

  Cynthia piped up, "Oz, you treat her right!" She shouldered her way through the clustered group, but Angelica held her back.

  Oz focused his fiery eyes on Beth. She tried to speak but all that came out were confused sounds. Her legs shook as though she was standing on a shifting fault line.

  Oz looked her straight in the eye. He shoved his big hands through his brown locks. "Staying together isn't fair to either of us. I know us, Beth, and we're not working. This isn't who we are. I might be what you want, but I can't be who you need."

  Tears clogged Beth's throat. "But..." He was drowning on his own. He needed someone to stand beside him, hold his hand, and let him know it was all going to be okay in the end. He needed her. He needed family.

  "What if this is the REAL Oz now?" he pointed to his chest. He looked to the group. "Have any of you thought of that? That this might be the real me?"

  "No," she whispered. She shook her head and leaned away. This wasn't the real Oz. Not even close. Unable to stop shaking her head, she barely felt the next blow.

  "I can't give you what you need, Beth." Oz's voice grew weak and he swayed, his eyes closed. "You need to move on. We're over."

  The room spun, the light fading in and out as she turned and fled, her heart on fire.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Beth was sobbing into Nash's crisp Polo shirt. She'd fled on foot, his place being only a couple of blocks away. He'd greeted her at the door and had wordlessly drawn her into the safety of his condo as well as his arms. He asked nothing as he let her cry it out until she could speak.

  "He doesn't want me. He's turned into a-a-a..." she hiccupped, her chest aching like something inside had torn free. "He told me to move on. It-it's over!"

  "Shh, shh." Nash rocked her gently, his cotton shirt fresh against her skin.

  When her crying subsided, he gently pulled her off his leather couch. "Come." He led her past the kitchen island that separated the living room from his immaculate kitchen. Despite being friends, it was the first time she'd been in his condo. She knew where it was, of course. Everyone knew where everyone was in a small town such as Blueberry Springs. And while she'd expected his place to be well lovely and neat, she hadn't been prepared for how modern and put together it truly was. He'd obviously done more than hung a few pictures when he moved in. The kitchen looked like he'd gutted it and replaced it with something from one of Katie's design magazines.

  "I take it you don't remodel locally," she joked, trying to crack a smile as she wiped her nose on a tissue. She gestured to the marble counter tops, and track lights aimed at sculptures and smooth pieces of pottery. She'd never met anyone with art in their kitchen that couldn't be held in place with a magnet.

  Nash smiled. "I have specific tastes. Do you like it?"

  "It's very sleek."

  "Modern."

  "Katie would go gaga for this place." She ran her fingers lightly over the solid wood cupboard doors, testing a small glass knob. "Why would you spend money redoing a condo you plan on leaving in a few years?" Nash didn't seem like the type to waste tens of thousands of dollars redoing a kitchen when he'd only get a partial return from the condo's increased resale value.

  "Why live somewhere that isn't your own personal haven?" He opened a cupboard and, to Beth's surprise, fog billowed out as he pulled out a small tub of ice cream. "Why not surround yourself with things that make you content? After all, there's no place like home."

  Beth rubbed her eyelids which felt as though they had swollen to four times their normal size. He had a point. There was nothing like having a cozy, comforting cave to curl up in. Something she was missing more and more with each night she spent in the open living room at Katie's. She needed a home. And now it seemed like there was no reasonable way to delude herself into waiting any longer.

  They were officially broken up. As official as the ring burning a hole in her pocket.

  She blinked back tears as Nash held up the small container. "Nothing but the best. It's organic, old-fashioned, homemade ice cream from this great little place in Dakota. Very expensive."

  "Obviously doctors earn way too much. Ice cream is ice cream." In the mood she was in, she could sit down and eat the whole thing. Three times over.

  "It's very rich. You couldn't handle eating more than a few spoonfuls. I have them double the flavoring and it's pure cream, straight from the cow. Well, a little pasteurization first. There are no guarantees in life, but we can always improve our odds a little."

  He peeled off the lid, pulled out a spoon that looked like it was made of blue glass, and fed Beth a nibble.

  "Oh. My. God." She closed her eyes, letting the rich chocolate delight all 10,000 of her taste buds. "I think my taste buds are having an orgy!"

  Nash laughed and pulled out a second spoon and two tiny bowls. She sat attentively at the island, waiting for more. She would seriously follow Nash to the ends of the earth for more of this stuff. There was a month's worth of healing in each spoonful. She needed more. A lot more. And she needed it now.

  "Come. Let's feed your soul." He led her back to the living room, tucked them shoulder-to-shoulder under
a cashmere throw, and flipped to a cheesy comedy on his large TV. She never wanted to leave the sanctuary of his condo. Everything matched. Everything was deliberately chosen. It was like a show home, only absent of salesmen, and she could put her feet up on the couch. And yet, it all somehow still felt like a home. Nash's home. His little haven where he was sheltering her from the storm.

  A few hours later, and feeling a bit better about life, Beth slipped into her sandals, knowing it was time to go, but for some reason wanting to stay.

  Nash ran a hand through his hair and asked, "So, are you, uh, seeing other men?"

  Beth shrugged and heaved a huge sigh. "I guess. Eventually."

  Her chest ached at the thought of kissing someone who wasn't Oz. Letting someone else into her heart. Into her bed. The very idea felt as wrong as Cheez Whiz and peanut butter smeared together on a piece of celery.

  She gave Nash a big hug. "Thanks for putting me back together."

  He held her close. "Is it okay?" He tilted her head back with a gentle finger placed under her chin. "If I do this?" He softly kissed her lips. "If it's too soon," he said, watching her with calm blue eyes, "I can wait."

  She didn't know what it was. All she knew was her head was screaming run while her legs were calmly replying leave a message.

  ***

  Beth turned from her patients, put a mixed CD in the hospital stereo, and hit shuffle. "Okay everyone, partner up! Let's get this dance show on the road!"

  She glanced at the doorway to the common room as she often found herself doing since Nash's kiss last week. For whatever reason, she kept expecting him to appear in the doorway even though they hadn't spoken since. She'd spent the week curled up with her wounded heart on Katie's stupid pullout bed and coming out only for work. Which meant she had to get out of bed a lot more often than she wanted to.

  Her breath wedged somewhere deep in her chest as the first notes of "A Kiss to Build a Dream On" floated from the speakers. Oz used to put their song on repeat and they would dance around and around the living room until their feet grew tired. Happy and blissful. Before he felt lost. Before he told her to move on. Before. Before. Before.