Rooted (The Pagano Family Book 3)

by Fanetti, Susan

  The new ruts through the snow-covered drive brought visitors within the first day—Joe, an older, rough-edged, old-school Mainer, showed up in his ancient Willys with his Mossberg at the ready, but he was warm and friendly as soon as he saw Theo, and he gave Carmen an appreciative eye—and then gave Theo a brotherly wink when he noticed her belly.

  Perry and Marijean Darron came over after that, having already talked to Joe. Marijean came bearing baked goods and homemade apple butter. Theo liked them both a lot, especially Perry, with whom he’d coached Little League for Eli and Jeremy Darron. They’d spent a lot of summer hours out on the lake in that little jon boat, too, dangling lines in the water and downing a six pack or two.

  Marijean was a sweet stay-at-home mom who homeschooled their four sons and put a diligent shoulder to all the things she felt certain that a good mother did for her family. She was also an inveterate gossip. She asked a lot of passively prying questions of Carmen, and Carmen’s answers grew progressively sharper until Theo realized that she was about to leave civility behind completely and just lay into his plump, mostly harmless neighbor. He found a polite way of sending the Darrons on their way.

  After that flurry of company, though, they were left alone unless they sought out civilization. Theo took her through town. They replenished the larder at Donovan’s IGA, and they had a couple of meals at the Pink Plate Diner. One day, he took her to campus, eerily quiet during winter break, and showed her his office, which had a stale, dusty smell of disuse. It was strange to be in this room again. He’d spent years in it, his entire career could be traced back through the books that lined three walls and the papers that filled the file cabinets, but after so many months away, it barely felt like his.

  Carmen studied all of his framed degrees and certificates, the teaching and service awards, the National Book Award, photographs of him during Orchids’ peak with famous writers and dignitaries. Then she plopped into the old armchair he kept for students and asked, “Is this the hot seat?”

  He sat at his desk, trying to ignore the solid red light glowing on his phone, indicating that his voice mail was full. He wondered if there was a way to simply erase the entire thing without listening to any message at all. He’d have to look into that. “It’s where students sit, yes. Not sure how hot it is.”

  “Do you make them cry?” She nodded toward the nearby box of tissues.

  “Crying happens sometimes, yes. I don’t set out to make them cry, no.”

  “I bet you’re a tough grader. You probably make all their papers bleed red ink.”

  He smirked at her. “Critique is how we learn.”

  Triumph filled her laugh. “I knew it! You’re that professor all students moan about. You probably never give As.”

  “When they’re warranted, I do. But an A suggests mastery.”

  She slouched back in the chair, playing with the beaded pull of the floor lamp next to it. “Yep. You’re a ninja prof. You’re all hot and nice and funny, and then you tear them a new one.”

  He shrugged, enjoying her play. Then she stood, came to him, and pushed herself between his legs. “What would I have to do to get an A from you?”

  Lifting her shirt, he kissed her bare belly, then pulled her onto his lap. “Master me.”

  ~oOo~

  Two nights before she was scheduled to go back to Quiet Cove, and the night before Jordan was scheduled to be home for winter break from the University of Maine, they had their first snowfall of the week. The flakes were the fluffy kind that were pleasant to be out in, and would be good packing for children’s snowmen, forts, and snowball fights in the morning.

  Theo took Carmen for a short walk through the falling snow, leading her through the well-worn trail the boys had made over years of wandering through their woods. They didn’t go too far; dusk was falling, and the woods got dense and deep dark a couple of hundred yards from the house. But it was beautiful and nearly perfectly quiet, except for the crunch of their own boots through the snow. Carmen slid her hand into his glove with his, and Theo felt a completeness he had not known in a very long time.

  Maybe not ever.

  That night, as every night of this week, he stoked a fire in the stone fireplace, and they ate a simple meal and then curled on the sofa together to read. He read an actual book, made of paper and ink; Carmen read on her tablet.

  When he realized that he had read the same two paragraphs several times, he set his book down and watched her for awhile. She was everything he wanted, everything he needed. Sitting here, in this house, wrapped up with this woman before the fire, he had a complete and perfect life. He’d barely been tempted by the liquor in the sideboard cabinet. A couple of rough moments, but that was all. He’d had no need to escape from or drown away anything. He’d wanted to be perfectly lucid and present in every moment with her.

  But they had yet to talk, yet to make any decisions. He had wanted her to have this week and feel the comfort and peace that the Wilde Wood offered, the cozy simplicity of his little town. She was leaving on Sunday, unless he could persuade her just to stay from now until eternity. Jordan would be home tomorrow, probably early. Tonight was the night they needed to talk.

  “Carm. I want to marry you. I want to marry you and live here with you. I want to love you in these woods until I die. That’s what I want.”

  Her first—and for disconcerting seconds, her only—reaction was a tightening of her hand around her tablet. Then, finally, she set it on her lap and turned her head to him. “Jesus, Theo. Don’t.”

  Despite their great week, part of him had been prepared for her fear. But it still hurt deeply. He tried to be calm. “We need to make this decision.”

  “I told you I needed time. You said you’d give me time.”

  Calm ebbed away. Nearly another week had passed, and they still hadn’t even talked about it. “Time—how much time? You are having a child, Carmen! My child! She’s not going to wait to come until you’re ready to face that fact. And she’ll be here before you know it. The changes we have to make will take time to bring to fruition. You can’t hide under the covers and pretend it’s not happening.”

  He’d said too much, too fast, in the wrong way; he knew it as soon as the words stopped coming. Her expression changed subtly but completely. She turned to stone.

  “I don’t have to make any decision. I just have to buy a crib.”

  “Carmen, don’t be like that.”

  “Like what? Don’t let you bully me into making the decision that suits you best? Why do I have to move and upend my life? Why don’t you move to Rhode Island? And who the fuck said anything about marriage? EVER? When did that come up?”

  That surprised him. He’d assumed, as Catholic as she was, that she would want their daughter to be born in wedlock. “I guess it’s coming up now. I want to marry you. You don’t want Teresa’s parents to be married?”

  She folded the cover over her tablet, set it aside, and stood. “I expected you to understand.” Pacing before the fireplace, she continued, “I don’t know what I want. I’ve been telling you that. It’s why I need time. If you’re in such a rush, then move to me.”

  “I can’t. My job is here. I have tenure.” And five more years before he could retire with a good pension. He couldn’t go.

  “My job is there.”

  “You’re self-employed, Carmen.”

  That was the wrong thing to say, too; she flinched at his words. He hadn’t meant to minimize her work, but emotion was making him dense. When she answered she nearly spat the words at him. “I have employees who count on me! Jesus! Are you that fucking stupid or are you just being willfully obtuse?” She wheeled on him, her hands on her hips. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You don’t want to see my side, because you’ve already made up your mind.”

  She obviously had employees she trusted enough to run her business in her absence; she’d gone to Europe for three months. He lived only about two hundred miles or so from Quiet Cove. Maybe she could keep the busine
ss going from that distance. They could figure something out if she would calm down and talk to him. “Carmen, sit down. Please. We need to work this out.”

  “No. I don’t think we have that much to work out, after all. The question is simple. Will you even consider moving to Quiet Cove?”

  He had his answer at the ready, but he paused and looked into her eyes, trying to get her to see. “No. I can’t. I’m a full professor, Carmen. I can retire in five years with my full pension. Even if I could find another academic job near Quiet Cove, it would turn my clock backwards. I can’t leave my job. If we’re going to be together, it has to be here.”

  If he’d thought she’d turned to stone earlier, she was ice now. Her eyes were bright and emotionless, and his heart slowed with the chill. She stood up very tall and squared her shoulders, and he knew what would happen next.

  He stood, wanting to prevent her speaking. “Carmen…”

  “Shut up. I’ve made my decision. That’s what you wanted, right? For me to make a choice? I’ll raise my daughter in my home, with my family. We’ll work out some kind of visitation. When you can tear yourself away from your job to come to the Cove to see her.” She paused before she delivered the coup de grâce. “I’ll have my lawyer contact you.”

  She turned with that and headed toward the bedroom. Theo knew she meant to pack and leave right now.

  “Carmen, no!” He grabbed her arm and turned her, but in his desperation not to lose her, he pulled too hard. She tripped over the runner of Maggie’s rocking chair and fell. He dropped to his knees at her side. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Carmen, I love you. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  She shoved him away. “Get off me. Just get off me.” Using the chair that had tripped her, she got to her feet and then proceeded to the bedroom. Theo dropped to the sofa and sat with his head in his hands, propped on his knees.

  He had no clue how long she took to pack; it felt like mere seconds. When she came back, she stood in front of him with her backpack and suitcase. “I’m going.”

  He stood again, but he resisted the need to put his hands on her, to hold her with him physically. “Please don’t do this. I love you. We love each other. I know we can work it out.”

  “By work it out you mean convince me to turn everything I know upside down so you can keep your life the way you like it.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. But Carmen, you don’t like your life. You’ve told me as much, more than once. Why wouldn’t you be willing to turn it upside down for something better?”

  She scoffed and shook her head. “You don’t understand at all, do you?”

  “I guess I don’t. Help me understand.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ll call you when she’s born.”

  Those words, that thought, hurt Theo more than he could contend with. So he closed his eyes, took a breath, and tried to keep her another way. “You can’t go tonight. It’s dark and it’s snowing.”

  “I’ve been driving in New England winters for more than twenty years. I’ll be fine.”

  “Carmen, don’t do this. It’s a mistake. We belong together, with our child. We’re a family now.”

  “No. We’re not.” With that, she left.

  Theo stood in his empty living room for a long time, long past the moment when he could no longer hear her truck crunching through the snow toward the road. And then he went to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. There were two. He thought that would be enough.

  ~oOo~

  The next morning, still reeling with hangover, he left a note for Jordan saying he’d be back in the afternoon. Once he got onto pavement, the roads were already clear. He went into Colson and had a greasy breakfast at the Pink Plate Diner. And then he drove to Lewiston and found an AA meeting.

  Carmen had not had the last word. He was going to find a way to get his family together. But he had to be sober to manage it, and, alone, he didn’t think he could be sober. Not alone. Alone was too empty.

  ~ 19 ~

  The little silver bell over the door tinkled lightly as Carmen entered Sea Weaver, her old friend Andi’s knitting and weaving shop. Sabina worked there, too, and they’d invited her for lunch at the shop. She hadn’t seen Andi other than in passing since before she’d left for Europe, and she’d been stewing in her own head since she’d fled Maine, so when her friend called and said she’d close up the shop for an hour, Carmen had agreed. She was regretting it now; she wasn’t in the mood for friendship.

  As usual, Andi was at her loom in the back. She seemed to be alone. She looked up and smiled as Carmen closed the front door. “Carmie! Look how beautiful you are! Turn the sign over, will you?”

  Carmen turned the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed”—not that it mattered much; shopping traffic was pretty light on an off-season weekday. The weekends weren’t bad during the holidays, but all the merchants in Quiet Cove made their years between May and September, and Carmen knew that included Andi.

  As Andi came around her loom, Carmen went to the desk and laid her messenger bag on it. “Where’s Sabina? I thought she was eating with us.”

  “She went to get the food—soup and bread from the Cove Café.” Andi hugged her and then kissed both her cheeks. Carmen, who wasn’t generally thrilled with hugs and kisses, bore Andi’s affection with what she hoped was good grace. “Now that I’m up close, you look a little tired. Are you doing okay?”

  She missed Theo. She hated Theo. She loved Theo. She wasn’t sleeping. She was sad and lonely and pissed the fuck off. In general, she hated every fucking thing. “I’m fine. The baby just wants me to sleep all day.”

  Andi nodded sagely. “I have something for you. Hold on.” She walked around and behind the sales desk and opened a drawer. Then she pulled out a little pink, knitted pouch. “Here. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

  “We don’t exchange gifts, Andi.” Carmen looked at the pouch with its purple satin drawstring, but she didn’t take it.

  “We’re not exchanging. I’m giving. Don’t be rude, Scrooge.” Andi hefted the bag lightly in her hand. “C’mon.”

  With a sigh, Carmen took the pouch and opened it. Into her hand she poured a silver necklace—a simple chain with four small, caged stones linked in a row at the front. “Oh, it’s pretty.” Knowing that stone and crystals were more than merely pretty to Andi, Carmen looked up at her friend. “So what do they supposedly do?”

  Andi leaned on the counter and lifted the necklace out of Carmen’s hand. She fingered the first stone in the row, a simple pink crystal. “It’s a pregnancy chain, to help bring you to a place to be strong to nurture and deliver your child. This is rose quartz—just a good, strong, general good feeling and health stone. Its aura is like a hug.” She moved to the second stone, mottled dark red and green, like Christmas. “This is unakite. It’s a strong grounding stone, to bring you peace and balance and to cleanse negative energy. It strengthens courage and confidence, and encourages union and strong bonds.” The third stone was opaque, nearly white. “This is moonstone. Every woman should keep moonstone close. It’s the stone of the Divine Feminine. Nothing is more divinely feminine than pregnancy and childbirth.” She picked up the fourth stone, banded brown and dark red. “And this last is—”

  “—jasper,” Carmen finished. “It’s a healing stone.”

  Andi grinned proudly. “Yes! It’s known as the nurturing stone. It brings comfort and eases stress during trying times. It promotes physical and emotional healing after trauma, and it helps us prepare to face challenges.”

  Without warning, Carmen broke into tears.

  “Oh, honey!” Andi rushed around the desk and pulled Carmen into her arms. This time, Carmen didn’t need to simply tolerate it. Her fucking hormones were all over the place, and she was so damned miserable she could barely stand upright, so she sort of fell into Andi’s embrace. Her friend was taller even than she was—a full six feet—and substantial. Carmen settled against her prodigious bosom and laid her head
on her soft shoulder. Andi always smelled of sandalwood and patchouli, and as Carmen sobbed and clung to her friend, she began to feel calm leach into her body with every inhale. Maybe there was something to that aromatherapy nonsense after all.

  The door opened and the bell tinkled while Carmen and Andi were embracing. Carmen stepped quickly back, swiping at her eyes, feeling exposed and angry at herself for dissolving into a weepy puddle like that. Andi patted her arm and went to help Sabina with the lunch she’d brought back.

  Sabina gave Carmen a perceptive once-over, but she didn’t pry. She simply smiled and brought the tray of soups over to the desk. “We have pumpkin soup, minestrone, and chowder. A loaf of pumpernickel and a plain French loaf.” She nodded to the pink box Andi had taken from her. “And Edith gave us a chocolate silk pie, too.”