The Baby Miracle

by Rayner, Holly

  “You too.” He grins, showing his teeth. “Most of the women in this town are sixes at best.”

  Okay, that’s creepy and offensive. I don’t really want to engage with this guy anymore. I give him a tight smile and pull my phone out of my purse, hoping to forestall any more conversation.

  No such luck.

  “Who are you texting?” he asks.

  “That’s private,” I say.

  “You don’t need to be rude. I’m just interested.” He scoots closer to me, so there’s only one seat between us, and leans over it. “You’re here alone, right? Do you have a boyfriend?”

  If I say no, he’s going to take it as tacit invitation to keep hitting on me. I know how men like this are. I came here for a night of peace and quiet, and he’s not going to let me have it.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s home working tonight.” I stand and gather my things. “I’m going to move farther back, excuse me.”

  The man grins again and gets to his feet. “Good idea. We’ll be able to talk back there without bothering anyone.”

  “No, um.” I’m feeling anxious now, but I take a deep breath and steel myself. “I actually just came here to relax and watch the movie by myself. I want to spend some time alone. I’m sorry.”

  I hope that wasn’t too rude. I feel sort of guilty. For about a second.

  Then Eric frowns. “It’s open seating,” he says. “You can’t tell me where to sit. I have the right to sit wherever I want to.”

  “Okay, yes, you do, but…” I trail off. I don’t want a fight.

  “I bet you don’t even have a boyfriend,” he says. “You were lying about that, weren’t you? I get it. Playing hard to get.”

  He steps closer to me, all up in my personal space, and suddenly I’m not nearly so glad that this theater is empty.

  He continues talking, “You shouldn’t have lied, though. That’s not very nice.”

  “Is there a problem here?” a voice asks, and I almost faint with relief.

  Eric steps back and turns around, revealing another man. He’s tall and muscled, with dirty blond hair and shocking blue eyes, and something inside me turns over at the sight of him.

  “Who the hell are you?” Eric asks. He turns back to me. “Is this the boyfriend, then? He’s whiny. You could do better than this, you know. You should realize that.”

  “No, he’s not—” I stop myself. Why am I telling him anything?

  Eric raises his eyebrows. “Not your boyfriend? Is that what you were going to say? I knew you were lying about that.” He turns back to the newcomer. “This doesn’t involve you, bro. Keep walking.”

  The blond man looks at me. “Are you all right here, ma’am?”

  The ma’am sounds completely different coming from him than it did from the cashier. He’s not writing me off because of my age. He’s showing me respect. He’s showing me—I think—that talking to him will be safe for me.

  “I’m just trying to get to my seat,” I say.

  “See?” Eric says. “No trouble.”

  “Is he bothering you?” the blond man asks.

  “Well, I came here hoping to spend some time alone…” I don’t dare come right out and say that yes, Eric is bothering me. Not while he’s closer to me than the other man is. He’s bigger than I am, and even though it makes me feel pathetic to admit it, I’m afraid of him.

  The blond man steps closer. “Why don’t you leave the lady alone?”

  “Why don’t you mind your own business?” Eric asks. “We were talking.”

  “She doesn’t want to talk to you, man. Respect her boundaries. Go find somewhere else to sit.”

  “Who do you think you—”

  The blond man closes the distance between them. “In fact,” he says, “if I were you, I think I’d choose a different theater.”

  The two men size each other up, and I can tell some sort of unspoken battle for dominance is going on. Finally, Eric’s face settles into a sneer.

  “You’re ugly anyway,” he calls over to me, and then turns and storms out the door, presumably bound for one of the movies in an adjacent theater.

  The blond man and I stand quietly for a few minutes, listening. “I wonder if he’s going to the romance or the one with the talking pigs,” I say finally.

  The man’s shoulders relax, and I realize he’s been as tense throughout the whole encounter as I have.

  “I hope I wasn’t interfering where I shouldn’t have been,” he says.

  “You weren’t,” I assure him. “I didn’t know that guy at all, and he was seriously creeping me out. Following me around and everything. Thanks for stepping in.”

  “I’m just glad he went for my bluff,” the man says. “I wasn’t at all prepared to beat someone up in a movie theater.”

  “You look like you could have taken him,” I say.

  “I mean, maybe,” the man says. “I have no idea. I’ve never hit anyone in my life. I probably would have just tried to hold him off so you could run for help or something.”

  “We’ll call that the plan for next time.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Kendall, by the way.”

  “Hi, Kendall, I’m Chase.”

  I’m studying his face. He looks sort of familiar to me, but I can’t quite place him. “You didn’t go to Vesper, did you?”

  “Go to what?”

  “Vesper College?” I’m assuming not since he looks baffled. “The local college? Up on the hill, about a mile from here?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Okay, wow, I guess that’s not where I recognize you from. What are you doing in Applewood if you don’t know what Vesper is?”

  Applewood is a small town, and the college is the main thing keeping it going. There is no chance that any adult citizen of Applewood doesn’t know Vesper.

  “I was flying home, and my plane had some trouble, so we set down here for repairs,” Chase says. “Can’t get out until morning. I mean, no offense. I’m sure it’s a nice town and all. I’m just ready to get back to Chicago.”

  “Chicago? Really!” Despite myself, I feel a smile spread across my face. “Me too. So weird that we’re meeting here of all places.”

  “It is, isn’t it. What brings you here?”

  “Oh, I grew up here. Went to college at Vesper. So I still have family and friends in the area, and I come back all the time to visit.”

  “But you’re not with them tonight?”

  I step back a bit. “Um.”

  “Oh, God, sorry.” Chase shakes his head. “That’s none of my business. I apologize. Please don’t feel like you have to tell me anything. I was just enjoying the conversation.”

  “No, it’s all right,” I say. “I just didn’t feel like making plans with my friends tonight. I sort of like coming to the movies alone, actually. It’s a good way to unwind.”

  “Really?” Chase laughs. “That’s so funny. I feel exactly the same way. All my friends think I’m crazy.”

  “Me too!” I exclaim. “They all say going to the movies is a social activity.”

  “But why?” Chase asks. “It doesn’t make sense. Watching a movie at home doesn’t have to be a social activity. Is it just the fact that you’re going out of your house? Like we’re not allowed to leave our homes without chaperones?”

  “Well,” I say, “I probably shouldn’t have tonight.”

  “No. That other guy shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t be allowed out of his house without a dog walker.”

  “You’re funny,” I say, grinning. “I’m glad I ran into you. And, I mean, not just because you ran that creep off.”

  “Happy to be of service.”

  The lights darken. “Oh, crap,” I say. “The movie’s starting.”

  He nods. “It was nice talking to you. I’ll let you enjoy your alone time now.” He turns and makes his way down toward the front of the theater.

  “Wait,” I call. “Chase.”

  He turns back.
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  “You don’t have to go down there,” I say. “It’ll be harder to see the screen from way down there. You’ll hurt your neck.”

  He cocks his head. “I don’t mind,” he says. “Besides, you came here to spend some time alone. I want to respect your space.”

  “Well, it’s a public place, though,” I point out. “It’s not like I came here thinking I wouldn’t be in proximity to any other humans. You can sit up here. Come on, the view is better, and it’s really not a big deal.”

  “Okay.” Chase smiles and takes a seat a few rows in front of me.

  I settle back into my seat to watch the trailers. The first one is for a movie about giant robots that come to life and attack San Francisco. It looks terrible. I shake my head, stifling a laugh and a sarcastic comment.

  Ahead of me, I hear Chase let out a snort.

  The second trailer seems to be a standard zombie movie, but halfway through I realize the female protagonist is actually in the process of falling in love with the main zombie character. This time I can’t help but chuckle a bit, and I hear Chase laughing right along with me.

  Oh, what the hell.

  I grab my purse and my popcorn, get up, and move down a few rows to where he’s sitting.

  “Hey,” I say.

  He looks up. “Oh, hi,” he whispers.

  “You don’t really have to whisper,” I point out. “We’re the only two in here.”

  “I guess you’re right.” His voice returns to normal. “So, what’s up?”

  “Well,” I hesitate. “I just wondered if, since we’re both here on our own, you might want some company for the movie? I mean, I totally understand if not—”

  “No, that sounds great,” Chase says. “Have a seat. Honestly, I would have asked you, but you made it pretty clear you came here to be alone, and I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “Good company can also be relaxing.” I settle into the seat beside him. “And you were laughing in all the same places as I was. We have really good movie-watching chemistry.”

  “Is that a thing?”

  “It’s absolutely a thing. I dated a guy in college who was really nice and sweet, but we had completely opposite opinions about every movie we watched together. It got to the point where it was impossible to go on dates.”

  He grins. “You know, I know an app that’s being released soon that would be perfect for you.”

  “An app? Like a phone app?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later.” He nudges me. “It’s starting.”

  Sure enough, the production company’s logo is splashed across the big screen. I fish in my purse and pull out my package of licorice, quickly ripping it open so the sound won’t distract from the movie.

  Chase glances at me.

  I hold up the box and tilt it toward him, offering.

  He smiles, reaches in, and pulls out a piece, nodding his thanks.

  The familiar opening chords of the movie’s theme song swell around us, and the black screen dissolves to reveal the opening scene. The renegade hero steals through empty corridors, and just like every time I watch this movie, I feel my heart rate accelerate. I know he always makes it out of this predicament, and yet every time I feel nervous watching him.

  Chase rests his arm on our shared armrest and his fingers brush mine. I inhale sharply.

  Maybe I’m feeling nervous for a different reason altogether.

  Chapter 4

  Kendall

  “You know what?” Chase says as we walk out of the theater and into the light of the lobby. “I’m actually really glad my flight was delayed here.”

  “What, in Applewood at night?” I laugh. “You are not. I’d never come to Applewood if I didn’t have friends and family in the area. There’s nothing to do here. We used to have a running joke in college that we had to party in our dorm rooms because there wasn’t anything else for us to do.”

  “No, I’m serious,” Chase insists. “That was one of my all-time favorite movies, and I’ve never seen it on the big screen before.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “You have? It was released forty years ago.”

  “Sure, but come on, you’ve never seen the classics at a movie theater before? Every theater I know does something like this from time to time. I saw it in Chicago at the Pier once, just a few years ago, and I saw it at this theater when I was a kid.”

  “Wow. You must really like it.”

  “Sure,” I say. “It’s one of my favorites too. It never drags, you know? It’s all action, start to finish. Never a dull moment.”

  “Plus the leading man’s pretty easy on the eyes,” Chase says.

  I feel myself blush. “Well, that never hurts, it’s true.”

  He smirks and says nothing.

  I swat his arm playfully. “Come on, like you weren’t checking out his love interest in the scene where she fought the gangsters in her tank top.”

  “Okay, okay,” he says, laughing. “Hollywood actors are good-looking. They’re both way too old for us now.”

  “Speak for yourself. Maybe I’m into older men.”

  “Maybe.”

  He tosses the empty popcorn bucket into the trash can. The two of us ended up sharing it. It’s a shame we didn’t get that combo number two.

  I glance over my shoulder at the cashier behind the concession stand, wondering if she’ll notice that I’m not by myself anymore, but she’s distracted with a line of customers.

  “Listen,” I say to Chase. “Would you mind walking me to my car? I’m sorry, it’s just that whatever movie that guy from before found his way into is probably letting out soon, and I don’t want to run into him again.”

  “It’s no problem at all,” Chase says. “I was just about to offer.”

  We step out into the parking lot. I feel a lot more secure having him walking beside me. Applewood is a pretty crime-free town, but I still feel anxious, especially after what happened in the theater.

  It’s strange. When I moved to Chicago, everyone warned me about the crime rate and advised me to be careful and not to walk alone at night. I know that’s good advice, and I always follow it. But there’s something scarier about the vast emptiness of an Applewood night, where the streetlights are far apart and there are no witnesses to anything that might happen.

  So I feel comforted having Chase here with me. But as we cross the parking lot toward my car, I have to admit that what I’m feeling goes beyond mere comfort. There was definitely a spark when our hands touched back in the theater. And I know I’m probably just being silly, that I’ve got my head in a fantasy place because of everything Aunt Mariel was saying. I really need to stop letting her pull me into those conversations. But it’s fun to daydream, and God, he is attractive.

  “So,” he says, looking around. “This is Applewood.”

  “Can you believe that if your plane hadn’t been forced to land, you might have gone your whole life without seeing it?” I ask him. “Imagine never driving down these back roads, terrified that a deer would jump out in front of your car at any moment.” I shake my head. “You haven’t lived.”

  “Did that ever happen to you?” he asks.

  “Of course. Loads of times. They’re a menace.”

  His eyes are wide. “Have you ever hit one?”

  “No, I’ve been lucky. Most people I know have.” I indicate the white sedan in front of us. “This is my aunt’s car.”

  He frowns. “I’m worried about you now, though. Driving home in the dark. I didn’t realize the roads were so dangerous in Applewood.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I say. “I grew up here, remember? I learned to drive here. I’m more worried about you. Do you even know how to drive outside the city?”

  “Driving in Chicago is harder,” he says.

  I laugh. “Trust me, it’s not. I mean, it has its challenges, but in the city you can always see where you’re going, no matter what time of day or night it is. Good luck with that in the country.”

>   “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “I walked here. I’m staying at Woodpines Inn, just over that way.” He points.

  “Oh, yeah, I know the place,” I say. “Pretty fancy. I’ve always wanted to stay there, but I never had an excuse since there was always a couch I could crash on somewhere nearby. Is it true the bathtubs have jets?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t really look at the bathtub.”

  “You’re kidding. That would have been the first thing I looked at.”

  “You’re funny.” He smiles.

  “Am I?”

  “I’ve seen that movie a dozen times,” he says. “I didn’t think there were any surprises left in it. But you made me look at characters and scenes I’ve seen over and over again in totally new ways.” He hesitates. “I’m really glad I met you tonight. I came out to the movie hoping to kill a few hours, but I ended up having a really good time.”

  “Well, I have to admit, it’s nice to meet someone who shares my taste in movies,” I say, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

  I’m suddenly nervous and I don’t know why. The truth is, I had a really good time too, even though I wasn’t as successful as I’d hoped I would be in distracting myself from my conversation with Aunt Mariel. Her words are still ringing in my mind, and now I’ve got to go back to the condo and lie in the darkness by myself, with nothing to think about except my future and how lonely it’s probably going to be.

  “Okay,” Chase says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Maybe I’ll see you around the city sometime?”

  “That would be cool.”

  We both know we’ll never see each other again. Randomly crossing paths with someone in Chicago? Seriously unlikely. Even more unlikely, I’d say, than the fact that we met tonight.

  “Thanks again for your company,” he says, and his arm twitches like maybe he wants to offer me a handshake, but he doesn’t. He inclines his head, turns, and walks off in the direction of the Woodpines Inn.

  I watch him go, wondering at the unlikeliness of the whole encounter, pondering how nice it was to have such good conversational chemistry with someone right away. And suddenly, without planning it or knowing I’m going to do it, I’m calling out to him.