“Or maybe I just want one the old-fashioned way,” Helen retorted, annoyed that Maddie was questioning her determination, even if she was asking questions Helen had asked herself a million times. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe I want a man and a baby and the whole family thing that you and Dana Sue have.”
“But you just said…” Maddie began, obviously confused.
Helen could hardly blame her. She was confused herself. To her dismay, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Excuse me. I need to get out of here.”
“Helen?” Maddie called after her. “Come back here. Let’s talk about this.”
But Helen made a clean getaway—which she’d hear about later. In fact, she’d probably find Maddie and Dana Sue on her doorstep before the sun set. Although, maybe by then she’d somehow figure out what the hell was really going on with her and why this decision about a baby was the only one she’d ever been incapable of making.
Erik had come to work early, hoping to get enough done to cut out the second Dana Sue arrived and thereby avoid another conversation about his love life, or lack thereof.
He was surprised when the back door inched open and Annie Sullivan, Dana Sue’s daughter, stuck her head in. “Is it okay to come in?” the seventeen-year-old inquired. “Are you really busy?”
“Just getting a head start on my day,” he said, gesturing for her to come in. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“Not for another hour,” Annie told him, dropping her books by the door and climbing onto the stool beside his prep area. “My mom’s not around, is she?”
“No. Why?” he asked. “Were you hoping she would be?”
“No. Actually I wanted to talk to you.”
Erik regarded her suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because you’re a guy and you’re not my dad.”
“An unbiased male point of view is what you’re after,” he concluded. “Are you sure I’m the right person? I’m not exactly a relationship expert. I assume this is about Ty.”
She grinned. “Of course.”
Ever since Annie’s hospitalization with severe complications from anorexia, she and Maddie’s son Tyler had gotten closer. They’d always been family friends, but Annie had wanted more, and Ty seemed to be showing some interest at long last. They’d been on half a dozen “real” dates, as Annie liked to call them, before Ty left for college, though both of them stopped short of saying they were actually a couple.
“What’s your question?” Erik asked, studying her closely for signs that she’d fallen back into her old harmful eating patterns. It didn’t matter how frequently he saw her, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from checking. Fortunately her complexion had a healthy glow, her hair was shining, and even more telling, she was wearing clothes that fit and showed off a figure that was still a little on the thin side, but far from the skeletal form it had been a year ago.
“You know Ty’s at Duke,” she began.
Erik bit back a grin. “You’ve mentioned it a time or two since he left for school last fall.”
Annie frowned at his teasing. “I mention it so much because it’s amazing that I actually know a guy who’s at Duke and who’s the star of their baseball team, even though he’s only a freshman. What’s even more amazing is that we go out once in a while to movies and parties. He’s even…” She blushed furiously.
Erik’s gaze narrowed. “He’s even what?”
“Kissed me,” she confessed shyly. “It was totally awesome.”
Although he wasn’t her father, Erik felt like it sometimes, so close was he to the family. And like a father he did not want to hear about any guy, even a responsible young man like Tyler, kissing Annie. For sure Ronnie wouldn’t be thrilled about it, either, even if kids their age often did a whole lot more than kiss. Still, maybe it was a good sign that Annie was talking about it. If things had gone beyond the kissing stage, he suspected she’d keep it to herself. He was so out of his depth with this stuff!
“You know there’s nothing amazing about Ty liking you,” he told her, opting for a lesson in self-esteem. “You’re a terrific young woman. You could have a dozen boyfriends at a dozen different colleges if you wanted them.”
“You’re just biased, like my dad,” she scoffed. “Anyway, my question is whether I should ask Ty to come home to take me to my senior prom or whether that would be totally lame.”
“Isn’t prom coming up soon?” Erik asked. “I think your mom mentioned something about taking you to Charleston to shop for a dress.”
“It’s three weeks away,” she said. “So it’s practically last-minute if I ask him now.”
“Why have you put off asking him?”
“It feels weird. It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. Don’t guys like to do the asking?”
“As a general rule, yes,” Erik told her. “But this is your event, not his. My guess is that Ty’s probably wondering why you haven’t already asked. You said yourself you’re not dating each other exclusively. What if he thinks you’re going with some other guy?”
“But I would never do that,” Annie said, her expression dismayed. “I don’t even want to see other boys.”
“Then, if you want him to go, ask him. A man appreciates a woman who’s direct with him.” He winked at her. “Unlike women, we’re pretty simple creatures. Be straightforward and honest with us and we’ll go along with the program. Women are the mysterious, complicated ones.”
“I wonder if Ty thinks I’m mysterious and complicated,” Annie asked, looking intrigued with the idea.
“I can just about guarantee it. He’s nineteen. I doubt he gets anything about women yet. I’m still working it out and I’m twice that age.”
Annie hopped down off the stool and hugged him. “Thanks.”
“Why didn’t you just ask your dad or your mom about this?” he asked.
She shrugged. “They’re parents. They get all worked up thinking I might wind up disappointed and I get a half-hour lecture on not counting on too much where Ty’s concerned. That usually turns into a conversation about disappointment leading to depression and bad decisions and eating disorders, yada-yada-yada.”
“You mean I just blew this entire conversation by not including a lecture?” Erik demanded, mostly in jest, of course, though he did find these little tests of his untried parenting skills to be disconcerting.
“For which I am very, very grateful,” she assured him. She grabbed a brownie off the tray he’d just taken from the oven and took a bite as if to prove a point. “Have a good day.”
“You, too, sweet pea. Let me know how it goes when you talk to Ty.”
She smiled, looking more carefree than she had when she’d arrived. “I’ll call you tonight right after I talk to him.”
No sooner had Annie exited through the back door than Dana Sue pushed open the door from the dining room. “Was that my daughter I saw sneaking out the back?”
Erik regarded her with his most innocent expression. “Was it?”
Dana Sue rolled her eyes at his pitiful attempt at evasion. “What did she want?”
“To talk to me.”
“About?”
“Sorry, confidential.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You and my daughter are having confidential conversations? I’m not sure how I feel about that. It was bad enough when she was having them with Maddie.”
“I don’t think this was something she felt she could ask Maddie,” Erik said.
“Then it was about Ty,” Dana Sue guessed at once.
“I never said that.”
“Is she inviting him to prom or not?”
“I know nothing,” Erik insisted.
“We could talk about you and Helen instead,” she suggested.
“Sorry. Gotta run.”
“Run where?” she demanded.
“Someplace where you’re not,” he said readily. “But don’t take it personally. You know I love you.”
“I think you love Helen,�
�� she countered. “Or at least like her.”
“What was that?” he asked, already closing the door. “Can’t hear you.”
The door snapped open before he could make his escape. “I said that I think you’re crazy about Helen,” she shouted after him. “And just so you know, I think she likes you back! Can you hear me now?”
Unfortunately, Erik figured half the people of Serenity had heard her. And if they had, his life had just gone from peaceful and quiet, the way he liked it, to downright complicated. There was no more popular sport in town than watching, and then discussing, a cat-and-mouse game between a man and woman.
Erik had barely walked to the outer fringe of downtown Serenity when he literally bumped right into the woman who’d become the bane of his existence. Helen was striding purposefully along with her head down and her thoughts obviously somewhere else.
“Hey, where are you heading in such a hurry?” he asked, steadying her as she blinked up at him.
To his shock her makeup was streaked and her eyes were swimming with tears. “Helen, what’s wrong?” He dug in his pocket and found a fistful of clean tissues. He handed them to her.
Even as she accepted them and mopped her eyes, bright patches of color bloomed on her cheeks. She tried to push past him. “I’m fine,” she muttered.
“Sure you are,” he scoffed. “The strongest, most in-control woman I know is walking around town crying her eyes out and claims to be fine. Not buying it, sugar. Talk to me.”
“Erik, please,” she pleaded. “Just leave me alone.”
“Sorry. It’s not in my genes to walk away from a woman in distress.”
“I’m not in distress. I’m just confused, and before you ask about what, it’s not something I want to talk about.”
“Okay, then, we’ll just go to Wharton’s and get one of those hot-fudge sundaes I hear you Sweet Magnolias turn to whenever you’re upset.”
She regarded him with surprise. “You know about those?”
“I’ve worked with Dana Sue long enough to know a lot of things,” he said.
“She blabs?”
He laughed at her indignation. “No, I have amazingly astute powers of observation for a man. Plus, I hear things.”
“You eavesdrop?”
“I remain attuned to my surroundings,” he contradicted.
“How is that any different from eavesdropping?”
“If you come with me, I’ll explain it to you.”
“I don’t want to come with you,” she murmured.
He fought a grin. “Do it anyway. Just think about what I’m offering—a hot-fudge sundae and someone willing to sit quietly and listen to all your woes. Do you know how many women would beg to be in your place?”
“I’m not one of them,” she claimed. “I just want to be left alone.”
“I’m sure that’s your usual way of coping with things,” he agreed. “Doesn’t seem to be working out so well today. How about trying something new?”
“Spilling my guts to you?”
He nodded.
She actually seemed to be weighing the offer. When she finally nodded, he felt a far greater sense of relief than he should have. He attributed that to having been spared tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her into Wharton’s.
“Let’s go, then,” he said, tucking her arm through his. “I’ll do my best to make this painless.”
“Whatever,” she said, sounding a little like a petulant child.
“Think of it this way. If you had to spill your guts to a shrink, you’d be paying a hundred dollars or more an hour. I’m a bargain.”
“And you’re throwing in a hot-fudge sundae, too,” she said grudgingly. “Is this my lucky day or what?”
“Told you so.”
It remained to be seen if it was going to be Erik’s lucky day or if this was going to be just one more step down a very slippery slope.
5
Helen avoided Erik’s concerned gaze and dug into her hot-fudge sundae. It might only be 9:00 a.m., but Erik had been right. The combination of rich vanilla ice cream, thick fudge sauce and whipped cream was just what she needed. She could barely remember what had thrown her into such an emotional tailspin and sent her fleeing from the spa and Maddie.
What the sundae wasn’t accomplishing, Erik was. He was a very disconcerting man. Few other men would have dragged her out for ice cream at this hour or even guessed that it was what she needed. In fact, most men would have been put off by her tears and run the other way.
“You ready to tell me what’s going on?” he asked eventually.
She took another overflowing spoonful of the sundae to avoid speaking and shook her head.
“Sooner or later you’re going to finish the ice cream and you won’t have an excuse not to talk,” he reminded her as he lounged on the seat across from her, seemingly content to sip his coffee while she made a total pig of herself.
“I’ll have to leave as soon as I finish this,” she said, pleased with the perfect excuse. “I’m already running late for work. Barb will send out a search party if I don’t show up soon.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Okay, then. You’d better start talking now.”
“Look,” she said, “I skipped breakfast. That’s the only reason you were successful at persuading me to come here. My blood sugar must have been low.”
“And is that what made you cry in public?”
She shrugged. “It can have all sorts of weird effects.”
“Trust me, that’s usually not one of them,” he said.
He sounded very sure. She studied him curiously. “What do you know about it?”
“You have no idea how many pieces of miscellaneous information I have stored away here.” He tapped his head.
“But you said that with some authority,” Helen countered. “Is that because you read up on diabetes so you could keep an eye on Dana Sue?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, but his expression had become shuttered. Helen sensed this was far from the whole story. Pushing aside the sundae, she put her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. Maybe she could avoid his probing questions by asking a few of her own. “I just realized that I know very little about you. Who are you, Erik Whitney? And what were you before you became a chef?”
“What makes you think I was anything before that?” he inquired.
“Because you’d just graduated from the Atlanta Culinary Institute when Dana Sue hired you. Unless you’re a very slow learner, which I doubt is the case, you must have done something before you went there.”
He seemed increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Look, the only reason we’re here in Wharton’s is so you can get whatever’s bothering you off your chest,” he reminded her. “This isn’t supposed to be about me.”
“But you’re so much more interesting, or at least your reaction is. What are you hiding, Erik?”
He regarded her incredulously. “What makes you think I’m hiding something? And what exactly do you think I’m hiding? Some nefarious past as a bank robber, perhaps? Or maybe you think I’m AWOL from the marines?”
“I’m an attorney. I deal in facts. I try not to have any preconceived ideas, which is why I’m asking you.” She tilted her head and noted the closed expression on his face. “You know what I find absolutely fascinating?”
“Not a clue.”
“You’ve gone all secretive and strong, silent type all of a sudden. Why is that, especially if you have nothing to hide?”
“No particular reason other than not liking to dwell on the past,” he said, his tone indifferent, but a tic in his jaw suggested he was anything but indifferent.
“Well, just so you know, it’s the kind of thing that kicks a lawyer’s curiosity into high gear. The art of a successful cross-examination depends on being able to read body language and expressions.” She surveyed him lingeringly, then added, “I’m considered to be very, very good at it.”
“It’s hard
ly the big deal you’re trying to turn it into,” he said. When she continued to pin him with her gaze, he finally shrugged. “Okay, here’s the condensed version. I was an EMT. I decided it was time for a change. There’s not a lot of drama in that.”
Helen was less surprised by the revelation than she probably should have been. It explained a lot about how observant he was when it came to Dana Sue’s monitoring her diabetes and the close eye he always kept on Annie and her eating patterns. Still, it didn’t seem as if it were something he’d want to hide, yet he’d obviously been very reluctant to reveal it. She couldn’t help wondering why.
“Did you like the work?” she asked.
“For a long time, yes,” he said, his expression still guarded. “Look, if you’re feeling better, I need to get back to the restaurant.”
“Running out on me just when things are getting interesting?” She shook her head. “It intrigues me that a man who was trying to dig around in my psyche just minutes ago can’t handle the idea of me asking personal questions.”
“I wasn’t the one having a public meltdown,” he said. “If you spot me having one, feel free to ask all the questions you want.” He tossed some bills on the table and was gone before Helen could formulate a response.
She stared after him, then distractedly picked up her spoon and ate the last few bites of her now-melted sundae.
“Now there goes one very sexy man,” Grace Wharton declared as she joined Helen. “How’d you let him get away?”
“I think I scared him off,” Helen admitted, vaguely unnerved by how guilty that made her feel. He’d been kind to her and he’d given her an excuse to take a few minutes to gather the composure she’d lost after her conversation earlier with Maddie. What had she done in return? She’d cross-examined him as if he were some kind of criminal.
“A man like that doesn’t scare too easily,” Grace said. “You didn’t mention marriage or something like that, did you? That’s the only thing I can think of that scares a confirmed bachelor.”
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