“I promised Annabelle a picnic lunch today, so–” My explanation was interrupted by a loud growl from my stomach. It broke whatever tension remained and we both laughed. “… here we are,” I finished lamely, indicating the cooler on the edge of the blanket.
Fox sat up, crossing his legs underneath him, and I watched a fleeting grimace flash across his face as he moved. The leg must still be bothering him. You would never guess unless you knew; he hid it well.
“Would you like to join us?” Surely there could be no harm in an innocent lunch in public, with witnesses.
He hesitated, and I realized how much I wanted him to stay.
“There’s plenty of food,” I assured him after he still hadn’t responded. “Heather helped me, so it’s even sort of fancy.”
Annabelle came running up, leaving a trail of sand in her wake. “Hi Mr. Fox! I’m hungry, Mama!” She plopped down next to Fox and looked up at him. “Are you hungry, Mr. Fox?” She peeled off her sandy shoes and socks and wiggled her toes on the blanket as she surveyed him. “We have sammiches! Do you like sammiches?”
I held my breath, unsure of Fox’s response. If you weren’t used to being around a preschooler, the incessant questions and chatter could be a little overwhelming. Fox didn’t strike me as a big talker, but he seemed to have a lot of patience, so I was curious how he’d react to Annabelle in all her three-year-old hyper glory.
“I do,” he told her. “What kind is your favorite?”
She scrunched up her face in thought. “Um… the bread ones.”
I smothered a laugh, and Fox caught my eye and winked. This was the part of co-parenting that I often missed: having someone to share in the funny moments. The retelling to my parents or Heather just wasn’t the same as witnessing one of Annabelle’s frequent gems.
“Those are my favorite too,” Fox said seriously.
“If you ask my Mama real nice, she’ll give you one. And probably a cookie too,” Annabelle told him in a loud whisper, like I wasn’t sitting right there.
Fox turned to me as I pulled out a variety of sandwiches, Heather’s famous potato salad, fresh fruit, and enough cookies to feed a football team. “Thank you for inviting me. Can I help with anything?”
I handed him a paper plate. “Yeah, help us eat all this! Heather packed enough for five days.” I smiled as he took a huge scoop of the potato salad and plopped it down on his plate.
A thought occurred to me as I made a plate for Annabelle: After I’d told her we were picnicking in the park, Heather had insisted on putting more than enough food in the cooler, even providing an extra box of cookies from her daily orders. She’d made an oversize batch of the potato salad as well, though it was only supposed to be the two of us eating. It was almost like she'd predicted this chance encounter.
Well, was it chance? I knew Fox worked out here – I saw him a few times a week. Heather knew that too. Maybe I was unknowingly seeking him out, hoping for more interaction. Great. That’s all I needed – my subconscious encouraging my schoolgirl crush.
“Mama? Can I have my food now?”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I said, flustered. I handed her the plate and sat back, watching the two of them compare sandwiches and pieces of melon while I munched on the potato salad. It really was delicious. Heather had outdone herself today.
After we ate, Fox insisted on cleaning up the plates and empty containers, taking everything to the garbage can on the edge of the parking lot. I packed the remaining food back into the cooler and looked around. Annabelle’s friends had left with their mothers, and the park was mostly empty with just a few bike riders and a couple children scattered around the playground.
Annabelle helped me shake out the blanket, and I folded it just as Fox walked up. “We should probably get going, it’s almost nap time,” I said, taking in Annabelle’s quiet mood.
Fox nodded, taking the cooler and blanket from me. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
I scooped Annabelle up, settling her on my hip, and her little face burrowed into my shoulder, a sure sign that she was tired. I was overly conscious of Fox’s presence just behind me, but he didn’t speak until after I’d buckled Annabelle into her car seat and he stowed our cooler and blanket in my trunk.
“Thanks again for lunch,” he said, leaning slightly on the driver’s side window frame. He was so close I only had to raise my hand to touch that dimple, but obviously I refrained.
“You should thank Heather, she made most of it,” I laughed.
“The company was even better than the food.” His voice was casual but my heart skipped a beat. “Bye, Annabelle,” he called softly into the backseat. She waved as he straightened up and backed away from the car.
“See you soon, Avery.”
I hope so. Wait, what? “Okay.” I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, watching out of the corner of my eye as Fox loped away.
* * *
Annabelle and I were coloring on the floor in the living room after dinner when Chase unexpectedly stopped by. I was beyond surprised when I answered the door and saw him standing there, a small bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.
“Hi babe. These are for you,” he said, thrusting the flowers at me. “A peace offering.”
A peace offering? But not an apology. “Thanks,” I said slowly, standing back and allowing him to enter.
“I’m tired of fighting all the time, you know?” he continued, toeing off his shoes and flopping down on the couch. “Hi Annabelle.”
She looked up briefly from her coloring. “Hi,” she said shyly.
“I don’t want to fight either,” I said, looking pointedly at Annabelle. “But maybe we should talk about this another time.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, really.” He shrugged. “I’ll forgive you.” He patted the couch next to him. “Come sit with me. I missed ya, babe.”
My brain nearly exploded when Chase said he’d forgive me, so I excused myself to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water and gather my thoughts a bit. I could hear Chase talking to Annabelle in the living room, asking her if she knew where the TV remote was. She must’ve unearthed it for him, because a second later, I heard the TV click on and ESPN blare into the room.
I thought back to a couple days ago when Chase stormed out of my house after accusing me of not making our relationship a priority. He wasn’t wrong. I felt myself withdrawing a little more every day. I wasn’t sure what was going on with Chase, but the more time we spent together, the more I was sure that he was a completely different man than the one who had left four years ago. And not necessarily in a good way. From time to time I caught glimpses of the old Chase, the good-natured charmer who always had a smile and was up for anything. But these days he was moody, his anger quick to spark, and his patience thin. When I tried to ask him about it, he brushed me off, saying he was fine and that I was overreacting. Previously I’d accepted that, but as his habitual irritability escalated, it seemed more and more like something else was wrong.
I brought the vase of flowers into the living room and set them on the mantle. Chase was engrossed in ESPN, so I went back to my spot next to Annabelle on the floor.
“That’s a beautiful drawing,” I told her. Only my child would insist on coloring a snowman in the heat of early fall.
“Thank you, Mama. He’s purple.” As Annabelle concentrated on her picture, I picked up my notebook and looked over a few things I’d jotted down for the outline of my next project.
Chase muted the TV and turned to me. “What’s that?”
I looked up, slightly surprised because he’d never taken an interest in any of my schoolwork before. “Just some notes for my Fiction in Advertising class,” I said. “It’s really interesting. We’re working on proposals for a series of infomercials. We have to invent a product, create a story behind it, and provide all the literature needed to sell it.” This particular class was exciting to me because I knew that having an edge in copywriting and marketing would mean more
versatility when I put my resume together.
“Infomercials? Who watches those?” Chase looked dubious.
“Lots of people, actually,” I said. “The demographics would surprise you.”
Chase shrugged, turning his attention back to the TV. “You’re wasting your time with all this school shit. You should just get a real job and be done with it.” The TV blared to life again, shocking my system almost as much as his harsh words.
Sudden tears filled my eyes as I looked at the man who was supposed to be on my side, encouraging me no matter what. That’s what he’d promised in our emails before his return. Give him another chance, he’d pleaded, and I would see how good we could be together. Maybe I was overreacting, but so far we seemed like oil and water.
I dashed my tears away with the back of my hand and sprang to my feet. When Annabelle looked up at me questioningly, I smiled brightly at her.
“Well, that’s your opinion,” I said evenly to Chase.
He didn’t even glance my way. “Whatever. I’m just saying, you don’t need it. If we get married, you’ll be too busy to work anyhow, helping my mom with all the family stuff.”
There was that exploding-brain feeling again. “It’s Annabelle’s bedtime now, and I have cleaning to do, so you should probably go. Sorry, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
Chase clicked the TV off and stood up slowly, stretching. “Sure, babe,” he said, completely oblivious to my abrupt dismissal. “Bye, Annabelle.”
I closed the door behind him, my shock and disbelief at his words still hanging in the air between us. He was wrong. I knew that all my hard work would pay off eventually, and I was well on my way to making a better life for myself and Annabelle. School was not a mistake. I wouldn’t let him convince me otherwise.
Determined to shake it off, I turned to where Annabelle hovered in the doorway. “Let’s have ice cream and watch Frozen, okay? You can stay up a little later tonight.” She cheered and ran toward the kitchen while I willed my head to clear and my shoulders to relax.
Chapter 9
It wasn’t productive in healing our rift, but I managed to successfully avoid Chase over the next few days. He didn’t really try to spend time with me either, so the days apart marked the longest separation we’d had since he came back to town.
On Thursday, when he popped into the diner during the lunch rush, the sight of his easy grin and cropped brown hair almost made me smile a little. But then I remembered his unfeeling comments about my goals and plans, and my irritation and hurt surfaced again.
“Hey,” he said, dropping down onto a stool at the counter. “Where’ve you been, babe? We keep missing each other.”
I faked ignorance. “Have we? I guess you’re right.” I couldn’t infuse the correct amount of normalcy into my voice, and I saw Fox glance at me out of the corner of his eye as he grabbed a couple spoons from the silverware tray.
“What’s up, man?” Chase slapped his hand into Fox’s for a casual shake.
“Hey Chase,” Fox nodded. “Just work, you know. We’ve been real busy here, Avery hasn’t sat down all week.”
My eyebrows shot up when he said my name, and I missed Chase’s response. Why was Fox making excuses for me? When I looked over at him, I saw he was looking back at me just as intently. I felt that crackle of energy between us again until Fox turned to walk away, breaking the spell. Chase’s attention was distracted by the menu and he didn’t notice our exchange or the way my eyes followed Fox’s retreating form.
“I’ll get a burger, okay? Extra fries,” he said.
“Coming right up,” I said to Fox’s back.
After I took Chase’s order, the rest of my section filled up and we lost our chance to chat. As he was settling his bill and preparing to leave, he flagged me over.
“What are your and Annabelle’s plans this weekend?” he asked.
My icy wall thawed a bit and I smiled, thinking he wanted to spend time with us. The new Chase wasn’t all that bad, I reminded myself. He had his good moments, and those always brought me right back in. I could forgive his occasional snide comments. I know he didn’t mean to be rude, he just didn’t have much of a filter these days. “I’m not sure… Did you have something fun in mind?”
He laughed. “I wish, babe, but me and the guys are going camping tomorrow! Remember?”
My shoulders sagged with disappointment, but I quickly straightened and plastered a fake half-smile on my face when I saw Fox looking curiously at me from the pass-through window. I thought for a moment. Part of my brain maybe recalled a comment about an upcoming camping trip, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Can’t wait to get away from it all for a few days, you know?” Chase continued.
“Sounds great,” I said softly. I suppose I couldn’t expect Chase to spend every free minute with me and Annabelle, doing family-type things. But it would be nice if on occasion he wanted to, instead of constantly pressuring me to get a babysitter. The fact that he preferred to come over after Annabelle went to bed bothered me too. We were a package deal, me and Annabelle, but sometimes I felt like Chase just saw her as a roadblock to his good time.
I cleared Chase’s plates as I listened to him talk about fishing and beer pong, feeling more distant from him than ever. We were young and Chase wanted to have fun, of course I understood that. But sooner or later he needed to grow up, or I wasn’t sure there was a place for him in our lives.
After Chase left and the restaurant emptied out for the afternoon, Fox came out of the kitchen again, refilling his coffee as I started my side work. Rolling silverware and refilling sugars was as tedious as it got, and I was grateful when Fox silently slid the napkins over and started helping.
“Thanks,” I said, not looking up. Every time I met his eyes I felt like he saw right into my thoughts, and it was unnerving and exciting at the same time. Definitely not a path I needed to go down when I was already feeling slighted by Chase.
“He’s wrong,” he said, and my head snapped up involuntarily. He pierced me with his cool green eyes that emoted volumes those two little words didn’t say.
“Wh– what?” You’d never know I got A’s in my Communications classes, what with my inability to form complete words or sentences around Fox.
He shifted, bringing his big shoulders closer to me as he reached for a fork to include in the roll up. “Everything he could want is already here.”
I blinked at him as I processed his words. His head was still down as he rolled the silverware, a few strands of thick honey-blond hair escaping the bandanna he used to keep it out of his face in the kitchen. I loved that stupid bandanna. Not all guys could pull off a headscarf situation and still look like a total badass, but Fox managed. On him, it was not quite pirate but not quite hipster, and it worked.
Everything he could want is already here. Fox had a knack for saying the exact things I wished would come out of Chase’s mouth but never did. There were twenty-five ways I wanted to respond to that, ranging from throwing myself into his arms to putting my head down on the counter and crying, but impulsively I picked a happy medium.
Stretching onto my tiptoes, I put my face close to his and kissed him softly on the cheek. I allowed myself to breathe in his cedarwood and soap smell, my hand lingering on his shoulder for a second longer than necessary. At the touch of my lips, he turned his face slowly toward me so our noses almost met, and I reluctantly dropped down off my toes, but not before I noticed his sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes hooded as he looked at me.
“Sorry,” I said shyly. “I just… wanted to.” My cheeks flushed at my inappropriateness, but I figured it was better than the only other option I seriously considered, which was climbing him like a tree and riding off into the sunset. I shook my head, laughing at myself when Fox’s expression turned from surprise to amusement as well.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’m not.”
He turned to walk back into the kitchen, and I steadied myself with a hand on the count
ertop. Can dimples wink? Because I felt like his just did.
I am in so much trouble.
* * *
It was way after four p.m. the next day when I realized Annabelle’s babysitter Claire was late. The afternoon had gotten away from me like it always did on the days when Annabelle didn’t have preschool, and between laundry, princess dress up, bill paying, tea parties, and housecleaning, I lost track of time.
I checked the clock on the microwave again as I called Claire’s cell phone. No answer. Did I have the time wrong? No, I specifically remembered asking her to babysit Annabelle this evening because I had to drive to campus for a meeting with my advisor and to turn in a rough draft for a scene I was working on. I didn’t trust the electronic submission site anymore after a few botched attempts on my end due to my ancient desktop computer and faulty internet access.
I tried Claire’s number again, and it still sent me straight to voicemail. She was one of our younger diner waitresses but usually reliable. My thoughts came quickly as I began to worry. My advisor appointment was at five thirty, and my professor stressed that he would only be on campus until a little after six if I wanted him to read through my script, which gave me about twenty minutes to figure out what the hell I was going to do.
Halfway through dialing my mom’s cell number, I remembered that she and my dad were hours away looking at livestock for their breeding venture. And Heather was in Dallas at the bridal convention, so dead end there as well. Maybe Claire was working a mid-shift at the diner and running late, or maybe Joy knew where she was. It was worth a shot.
“Damn it,” I muttered, kicking a cabinet with my bare foot. “Shit!” That really hurt, and I hopped around for a minute before walking to Annabelle’s room. She looked up from her little chair where she was brushing her Barbie’s hair and smiled at me.
“Hey, Bells,” I said. “Can you help Mama and put a few toys in your bag, sweetheart? We need to leave in a minute, okay?” She nodded and started shoving her Barbie and assorted doll clothes into her Minnie Mouse backpack.
Hey Sunshine Page 8
