Waking Up in Charleston

by Sherryl Woods

  Amanda winced, probably at the reminder of the tree house’s height off the ground.

  “It wasn’t that high,” he told her. “I had a vivid imagination.” He grinned. “And I never fell out.”

  “Never?” she asked.

  “Not even once. Not even a scratch on me from climbing up there.”

  “And you’d help them build it?” she said.

  He knew what lay at the heart of her concern—not just the prospect of the little daredevils tumbling out of the tree, but helping themselves to dangerous tools in their eagerness to get the tree house constructed. “Absolutely,” he assured her. “They’d never touch a tool without me around, right, boys?”

  Both of them nodded solemnly.

  “And you wouldn’t go up in it without an adult around?” she asked.

  They looked a little more hesitant over that one, but Caleb gave them a surreptitious nod.

  “Sure, Mom,” Jimmy said.

  Amanda clearly caught the lack of enthusiasm for that particular rule. “That one’s a deal breaker,” she said adamantly.

  “Okay, okay,” Larry grumbled. “We’d never go up there without a grown-up around, right, Jimmy?”

  “Right,” he said.

  Susie had listened intently to the whole exchange. “What about me?” she asked. “I wanna go up, too.”

  “No girls,” Jimmy said fiercely. “It’s only for boys.”

  “That’s not fair,” Susie protested, near tears.

  Amanda picked her up. “Trust me on this one, you don’t want to go up there, anyway. Trees are all full of bugs and stuff.”

  Susie didn’t look convinced. “I’m not scared of bugs.”

  “Snakes can climb up there, too,” Jimmy exaggerated. “And big ole birds can swoop in and carry little kids away.”

  Susie’s eyes widened. “You’re not that much bigger than me. How come they won’t get you?”

  “’Cause we’re tough,” Larry said.

  “And we’re boys,” Jimmy added. “They only come after girls.”

  Caleb listened to the exchange with amusement, then waited to see what Susie’s response would be.

  She hugged Amanda a little tighter, then announced imperiously, “I don’t want to be in your ole tree house. Mr. Caleb and me are gonna build a playhouse down here and I’m gonna have tea parties and cookies and you can’t come in, so there.” She gazed into Caleb’s eyes. “Is that okay?”

  “Absolutely, short stuff. It’ll be the best playhouse in all of Charleston,” he promised.

  “And only me and you and Mommy can come inside,” she added emphatically.

  “Seems fair to me,” Caleb said.

  “Okay, now that we’ve agreed to all these building plans, I think it’s time for you guys to take your baths and get to bed. Scoot,” Amanda said, setting Susie back on her feet.

  All three kids headed for the house, but Susie ran back and held her arms out to Caleb. When he’d picked her up, she kissed him. “I love you, Mr. Caleb,” she said.

  “Love you, too, little one.”

  He put her down reluctantly and watched her run off.

  “I’m sorry you’ve gotten dragged into yet another housing project for this family,” Amanda told him. “You don’t have to do it, if you don’t have time.”

  “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” he assured her. “I like your kids.” He hesitated, then added, “I can think of someone else who might want to help.”

  She studied him with a narrowed gaze. “Oh?”

  “Why don’t you give your father a call? I’ll bet he’d enjoy giving the boys a hand.”

  “Are you crazy?” she retorted bluntly. “Why on earth would I call my father under any condition? And what makes you think he’d even take the call, much less come over here?”

  “A lot of time has passed, Amanda.”

  “Not since the last time I reached out to him. He all but laughed in my face when I tried to turn to him for help after Bobby died. I swallowed my pride then, Caleb. I won’t do it again.” She studied him with undisguised dismay. “Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

  He regarded her somberly. “Because I know a day will come when it’s too late and you’ll regret it with all your heart that you didn’t try harder.”

  Her expression remained stoic and determined. “I’ve long since learned to live with regrets. My relationship with my father is what it is. There’s nothing I can do to change it.”

  “Amanda, surely you know better than that,” he chided. “Aren’t you even willing to try?”

  “Stop pushing me on this, Caleb,” she responded heatedly. “Stop trying to make it sound as if I’m throwing some stubborn little snit. It was my father’s decision to cut me out of his life. He’s going to have to be the one to reach out. I’m done.”

  Caleb heard the unyielding tone in her voice and decided it would be prudent to back down. Otherwise she might start asking a whole lot of questions he didn’t want to answer, such as when he’d become such an advocate for Big Max.

  “Okay, you’ve made your point,” he said quietly, trying to hide his disappointment.

  She frowned at him. “Don’t you dare look at me like that,” she snapped.

  “Like what?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

  “As if I’m disappointing you.”

  “Sorry. It’s the circumstances that disappoint me, not you specifically. Nothing is more important than family, and I hate seeing people turning their backs on the ones they have.”

  “Then go have this chat with Big Max. He’s the one who’s raised rejection to a whole new level.”

  “Maybe I will,” he said mildly, wondering if she hadn’t inadvertently given him the perfect excuse to do what he’d already been attempting to do—build a bridge between these two.

  She seemed startled by his response, but then her shoulders squared stiffly. “Just don’t bother reporting back to me. I don’t want to hear anything you might have to say about my father.”

  Caleb sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Let’s get back to the tree house for a minute. Maybe the boys are right and Josh will help. I can probably put it together, but it’s bound to be sturdier with an expert on the premises. He’d be a help with Susie’s playhouse, too. And he may well have leftover supplies, so there won’t be many expenses. I’ll give him a call.” He forced a smile and moved on. “Did you see the look in your sons’ eyes when you agreed to let them do this? They’re over the moon.”

  Amanda’s anger visibly faded and she smiled slowly. “They were, weren’t they? For the first time in I can’t remember how long, it feels good not to have to deny them something they want.”

  “A little denial isn’t bad for a child,” he reminded her. “It helps them learn that sometimes you have to work hard to earn the things you want.”

  “I know, but I would give them everything if I could,” she said.

  He understood the sentiment, but he couldn’t help reminding her, “That’s how Bobby felt, and look where it led.”

  “Believe me, no one is more aware of that than I am,” she said soberly. “And if I forget it from time to time in my desire to make up to them for the bad times, I hope you’ll bring me back in line.”

  “You’re a good mother, Amanda. I don’t think you need me to tell you what’s right.”

  A part of him wanted to tell her, though, that he’d always be around if she needed him to fall back on, but it was the wrong thing to say, the wrong time to say it.

  “I should go,” he said instead. He needed to remind himself that this wasn’t his home, wasn’t his family and that he’d already overstepped the boundaries tonight.

  “But you barely ate any of your pizza,” she protested.

  “I’ll take a couple of slices home with me. I can eat while I’m going over my sermon for tomorrow.”

  He thought he detected disappointment in her expression, but she was quick to recover and offer a bright smile.<
br />
  “I’ll wrap it up for you,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you to stand up there in front of the entire congregation and have to wing your way through a sermon, though something tells me you could do it. You have quite a way with words.”

  “It’s probably best if we don’t put that theory to the test,” he said.

  Inside, he accepted the pizza from her, then headed for the door. “Good night, Amanda. Thanks.”

  She regarded him with surprise. “For what?”

  For sharing your family, he wanted to say, but he doubted she’d understand how much it meant to him. It was probably best if she didn’t even try.

  “The pizza, of course.”

  “Thank you for hauling that armoire in for me.”

  Caleb looked into her eyes and couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. There was a time in his life when he would have responded to the need that was so plain in her eyes, when he might have reached for her, kissed her thoroughly and left wanting more. Now he simply left.

  No, he thought as he got into his car. It hadn’t been that simple. Even without the kiss, he still wanted more.

  Mary Louise hadn’t heard a single word of Reverend Webb’s sermon. Instead, she’d been clutching the prayer book in her hands so tightly it had carved lines in the palms of her hands.

  Beside her, Danny was staring straight ahead, his shoulders slumped, looking miserable. It made her heart ache, seeing him like that.

  She knew what she had to do this afternoon after church. As much as it was going to hurt, as furious as her parents were going to be, she had to let Danny go. She loved him enough to do that. She wanted him to be everything he’d dreamed of becoming, a brilliant architect and historical preservationist. She couldn’t stand in the way of that. She couldn’t let one mistake change the course of both their lives.

  She reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. In less than an hour, they would be in Reverend Webb’s office and she would be giving Danny his freedom. She didn’t know what would happen to her after that, but she knew it was the right thing to do. If Danny wanted to be a part of his baby’s life, well, they’d find a way to make that work, even if it just about killed her to see him and know it was over between them.

  The sermon ended, the collection plate was passed and then there was one last hymn and the recessional. It all went by in a blur. It all happened too fast.

  Danny looked over at her. “You ready?”

  Mary Louise nodded.

  Instead of going out the front door where they’d have to speak to everyone, they slipped out a side door and went straight to Reverend Webb’s office. He came in right behind them and closed the door.

  “Will your folks be joining us later?” he asked.

  “We decided against asking them to come,” Mary Louise said. “We needed to make this decision on our own. Once we’ve talked it over with you, we’ll tell them what’s going on.”

  “Don’t you think they might have been able to offer some sound advice?” Reverend Webb asked.

  Mary Louise gave him a wry look. “You mean after they stopped yelling at us and calmed down?”

  He laughed at that. “You might have a point, though I’m not sure you’re giving me much credit. I might have been able to keep the yelling to a minimum.”

  “Not with my folks,” Mary Louise said, resigned to the explosion that lay ahead. “They’re going to have a hissy fit.”

  “Mine, too,” Danny said bleakly. “Especially when they find out I’m going to be blowing off a college scholarship.”

  “Then you’ve decided to move back here and get married?” the minister asked, his tone pretty even for a guy who’d been advocating against that.

  Mary Louise shook her head. “Actually, that’s not what we’ve decided,” she said, proud that her voice hardly wavered at all. She met Danny’s startled gaze and held it. “I think getting married is a bad idea. It’s not what Danny wants, not now, anyway, and I don’t want to live with knowing that I ruined his chance to go for his dream.”

  There was no mistaking the relief in Danny’s eyes, but he asked quietly, “Are you sure about this, Mary Louise? I’ve given it a lot of thought, too. We could make it work if we had to.”

  If we had to. That grudging phrase told the whole story. “No, we couldn’t.” She avoided Danny’s gaze and faced Reverend Webb. “You see, I really did listen to what Mrs. O’Leary said the other day, and I saw how frazzled she was when the kids started acting up. I know we’d only have one baby, but even one would probably make a lot of noise. Danny would wind up being tired all the time and missing classes and stuff or failing tests. It’s not fair. Sooner or later, he would resent me and the baby. I get that now.”

  “It’s not fair that you’ll have to cope with all that alone, either,” Reverend Webb said gently. “Is that what you’re suggesting? Do you still plan to keep the baby?”

  Mary Louise nodded emphatically. “I want this baby. I won’t give it up, but this is my choice, not Danny’s.”

  Reverend Webb turned to Danny. “This girl of yours is pretty amazing.”

  Danny’s eyes glistened with tears. “I know that. And she shouldn’t be the only one making a sacrifice. We made this baby together.”

  Mary Louise saw that a part of him wanted still to do the right thing and she loved him for it, but she couldn’t do this by half measures. “Danny, this is what I want. That’s the difference between you and me. You see what you’d be giving up and I see what I’m getting. It’s my decision to keep the baby and it’s my decision to let you go. We can decide later about custody and stuff. I’ll never keep you from the baby, but I won’t expect you to be a part of its life, either. That’s up to you.” She managed to get the words out without a single tear leaking out. She was proud of herself.

  “I’ll make support payments,” Danny said, sitting taller. “That’s only right. It might not be much at first, but we can set it up so it’s more later, once I graduate and get a halfway decent job.” He looked toward Reverend Webb for support. “Is that fair?”

  “I think so,” the minister said.

  “And the baby?” Mary Louise asked, her heart thumping unsteadily. “Will you want to see the baby?”

  Danny hesitated, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “I…I don’t know,” he whispered. “Can we decide that later?”

  The last shred of hope inside Mary Louise died. Their baby still didn’t matter to him, not the way it did to her. “Sure,” she said stoically. “Later’s good.”

  Maybe later her heart wouldn’t ache as if Danny had just stuck a knife into it.

  5

  Amanda’s backyard was crawling with people. Okay, there were only six adults besides herself, but the way the kids were scurrying around and getting in everyone’s way, it felt like more. Maggie had called Saturday morning and announced that she and Josh were coming by to help with the tree house construction and they were bringing Dinah and Cord, along with Josh’s mother, Nadine, and George Winslow.

  “I take it Caleb recruited you all,” Amanda said.

  “He mentioned it to Josh, who called Cord,” Maggie said. “I’m the one who decided the guys shouldn’t have all the fun. You, Dinah, Nadine and I can make curtains and stuff for Susie’s playhouse, which I gather is the next construction project. Something tells me these kids are going to be the envy of the whole neighborhood, if not most of Charleston. Our men must have had very deprived childhoods. They’re really getting into this. I haven’t seen Josh this excited about building something in ages.”

  “And you’re not as into it as he is?” Amanda teased. “It sounds as if you’re already working on an interior-design plan for the playhouse.”

  “It’s curtains,” Maggie protested. “I can whip those up with my eyes blindfolded.”

  “I can’t get over the fact that you sew, too,” Amanda said, feeling instantly inadequate. Maggie seemed to possess all sorts of skills Amanda didn’t have. She’d even worked right alongside
the men on the construction of Amanda’s house.

  “In my world, little girls learned to paint and sew,” Maggie admitted. “Some of it took before I rebelled and learned how to use a hammer and saw. I much preferred playing with boys to doing sissy stuff with girls.”

  “I’m in awe.” Amanda’s father hadn’t pushed her to learn any of the so-called feminine pursuits. He’d steered her toward his own interests. Instead of a little patent-leather purse, he’d given her a custom-made miniature briefcase. She’d had to beg for a doll, and then he’d managed to custom order one dressed in a designer business suit.

  “I can barely hem the kids’ clothes, much less make something from scratch,” she told Maggie.

  Maggie laughed. “Hey, don’t get the idea I’m on a par with a professional seamstress. The curtains will be frilly and they’ll do the job. They won’t be perfect.”

  “Susie will love them no matter what,” Amanda said. “Now, what can I do for this gathering? It’s short notice, but I can whip up some hamburgers and potato salad for lunch.”

  “Not necessary,” Maggie said. “Caleb said he’d have that covered. He’s going to be running late, so he’ll bring lunch for the whole crew with him. And Nadine said she’d make some lemonade and pick up sodas.”

  A part of Amanda chafed at the generosity. It smacked of more charity. “I should be doing something,” she protested.

  “Paper plates and napkins,” Maggie suggested. “Or maybe once the guys get there, you and Susie would like to meet Dinah and me at the fabric store. Susie might like to choose the material.”

  Amanda declined. She’d wanted to make sure the house was spotless before her first impromptu party. She didn’t want any of these people to think she didn’t prize the home they’d built for her and couldn’t care for it properly.

  Of course, the men had barely spared the inside of the house a glance as they’d headed straight for the backyard. And the women had immediately congregated in the kitchen, which had been turned into a sewing room and was now covered with yards and yards of pink eyelet fabric.