by L. B. Dunbar
“Well.” A sharp male voice breaks us apart, and Britton tucks her head to my chest as if it will hide her. I smile at Jess over Britton, and his eyes narrow.
“I’d say get a room, but this is my house, and I don’t want to consider what that would mean for me.” He’s teasing, but his voice still holds a serious edge.
Britton doesn’t look at me but lifts her head. “I just need a minute. Bathroom?”
Jess points up the staircase, and Britton climbs the stairs. Watching her walk away, I stare at the sway of her hips and the tightness of her ass. Jess waves a hand before me.
“You’ve got it bad again, don’t you?” he asks, and my head turns toward him.
“What do you mean?” I smile like a fool because I’m definitely in a happy place.
“What are you doing?” Jess hisses, glancing up the staircase and then back at me.
“What do you mean?” I repeat, my voice a little harsher.
“I didn’t think I’d need to spell this out for you, but don’t be dipping in the local flavor.”
“What the—”
Jess holds up a hand to stop me. “We aren’t kids, man. You can’t just hook up and then walk away. There’s a kid involved here.” I get where he’s coming from. As a single dad before Emily, Jess was protective of his child. Brit’s protective of Gee. “I don’t want you to hurt her.”
“What’s she to you?” I snap.
“What’s she to you?” he reiterates, staring at me. He knows how I felt about her as a teen, but we’re twenty years past that time.
“We’re just hanging out. Having fun.”
Jess sort of rolls his head in a dismissive motion. “You can’t be that stupid, right, Gavin? You can’t be so blind not to see what’s happening here.”
I stare at him, apparently not seeing something.
“She was in love with you when we were kids, and she still has that dreamy look about her when she looks at you.”
“She does not,” I stammer like I’m still a teenager. Does she? God, it’d be amazing if she did.
“She’s been through a lot, though, and I don’t want you to take advantage of her.”
I’m not taking advantage of her, and the accusation hurts. “What do you know about her?” I demand, curious myself, as so many details feel like they’re missing.
Jess shakes his head again. “Not much other than she was close to that uncle who left her the house. It led to a family feud for a bit, but she didn’t give in. She had a husband who died after a short bout of cancer. Emily told me it happened fast. Like one year from diagnosis and he’s dead. He was only fifty.”
Shit. That does suck.
“It’s been three years,” I state, not trying to sound insensitive. You can’t put a time limit on grief, but Britton is still young herself.
“My point is, she’s lost enough. She doesn’t need you playing with her heartstrings and then snapping them when you disappear again.”
“What are you, a poet? When did you become the master of relationships?” I say, taken aback by all this protectiveness and unwarranted advice.
“Since I fell in love for real this time.” Jess stares at me, and I look away.
“So what if it’s not love? Can’t I just enjoy her while I’m here?” As cavalier as the words sound, they taste bitter in my mouth and offer no defense against Jess’s concerns.
I glance up to find Britton slowly walking down the stairs. From the expression on her face, it’s evident she heard what I just said.
“Candy,” I whine as she cautiously lowers off the last step.
“No need to explain, Sport.” Her voice holds no tease despite the use of my old nickname. “The fun will just be outside.”
“Dammit, Britton. That’s not what . . .” I don’t bother to finish as she rounds the staircase and exits through the dining room to the backyard.
I glare at Jess, waving out a hand. “Thanks for that.”
His eyes remain on me, narrowing even more as I swipe through my hair and blow out a breath.
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Like her?” I snap as Jess continues to stare at me. “What is this, high school? Of course, I like her. I’ve never stopped.”
I might be in love with her again.
Jess watches me, his jaw clenching in that way when he’s concentrating. “No, you really like her.”
“What are you getting at?” I hiss, not liking his assessment of me.
“You know she’s the kind of woman you settle down with, right? The kind you move home for.”
“I’m not moving,” I bark. “My home is in California.”
Jess nods once. “If that’s what you say.”
“That’s what I say,” I reply to him, feeling unsettled by the answer.
“I’ll remind you of that when you realize home isn’t a place. It’s a person. Sometimes it’s even more than one.”
What the . . . I don’t have time to respond as he turns for the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time, and I’m left wondering what he meant.
Take 17
Scene: Emily and Jess’s Party (continued)
[Britton]
While Gavin’s words stung, it was also the truth. We don’t need to discuss love because that isn’t going to happen between us. This is only about reconnecting. We are only getting tangled in the reminder of our youth.
For the remainder of the evening, Gavin and I are separated. It isn’t that I’m ignoring him, but I don’t give him my undivided attention, especially when Emily and the girls start talking about a last-minute girls’ night out.
“Come with us,” Emily suggests. She moved here a little less than a year ago, and it’s something we bonded over when she first entered the tea shop. For her, she needed to learn to navigate a small town she also used to visit as a child. She stayed in this house, owned by her grandmother back then.
“I don’t want to intrude if it’s a family thing,” I note, as her future sisters-in-law, Tricia and Pam would be attending.
“Ella’s going,” Emily adds.
“My boss Mae from Mae’s Flower Shop is coming,” Pam adds.
“And you already know Jenna. I teach with her, and she’s coming as well,” Tricia says.
“Okay,” I sheepishly respond, falling short of an excuse. I can’t remember the last time I went out with a group of women. “Where will it be again?”
“We’re going to Rogue River, that new country bar.” Rogue River opened last season on the tip of Elk Lake City. It’s such a great location and newly turned over from a dinner restaurant that stood there for decades.
“I don’t know how well I’ll be shaking my groove thing,” Tricia teases, rubbing over her belly. She’s due in September.
“Same,” Pam says, smiling as she looks down at her stomach, which isn’t showing nearly as much as her sister’s.
“How are you both feeling?”
“Like a spare tire is attached to the front of me.” Tricia laughs at the addition to her taller frame.
“I’m certain this little one is working on being a heavyweight champion,” Pam chuckles, stroking a hand over her midsection.
“I remember the feeling,” I admit. “I loved being pregnant even though I was young.”
“How old were you? Twelve?” Emily teases.
“I was twenty-three when I got pregnant and had Gee when I was twenty-four.” My eyes shift to Gavin, who stands near enough to hear me, but I can’t be certain he’s listening.
“Wow. You don’t look a day over twenty-five.” Emily chuckles.
“I’m thirty-six.”
Pam’s brow pinches. “You’re still younger than me.”
“Well, I found pregnancy so . . . fascinating. The changes to your body. The way it accommodates life. I loved it when the baby moved inside me, although it wasn’t always convenient.” I recall sleepless nights and the accompanying fear that I wouldn’t be a good mother, especially as a single woman then
. I sigh, accepting that I’d never have that experience again. Patrick and I never conceived.
“How long were you married, if you don’t mind my asking,” Tricia asks. I swallow hard, my eyes shifting to Gavin again. His back straightens, his body language suggesting he’s listening.
I could lie. I could tell them the thing I’ve never fully clarified with my own child. Gee is twelve. He believes Patrick and I were married for the entirety of his life, and it really doesn’t make a difference to him. But I like these women, and I’d love to have more women friends in the area. A lie, or even an omission of truth, wouldn’t be the best way to start friendships.
“I was married for eight years. Patrick and I didn’t marry until Gee was almost one, and then he died three years ago when Gee was nine.”
My gaze drifts to Gavin, who pauses mid-lift of his beer to his mouth. Slowly, his hand lowers.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Pam says, pulling me back to the conversation.
“Pancreatic cancer,” I admit and notice Karyn Carter bristle. Her mother has the c-word also, and she understands. “And that’s a downer on this happy occasion.” I try to laugh it off, but the memories wash through like a wave, and the emptiness lingers. Although it’s been years since Patrick’s death, the year he was sick was one of the most challenging times in my life. Celebrating this happy occasion isn’t the time to be remembering my own loss.
“He was lucky to have you,” Emily says, reaching out to hold my hand.
“I was lucky to have him,” I quietly admit, still feeling uneasy with Gavin so close.
Karyn’s been quiet during this conversation, and she looks at her phone. “Where are those boys?” she mutters, changing topics, and I’m grateful for the shift. “I swear Holden has selective hearing like his father.”
I glance at my phone as well, wondering if Gee checked in. The street fair is nothing more than restaurants offering their favorite menu items or specialties on the sidewalk. The library hosts some games for little kids, and a local band plays music, allowing couples to dance on the pavement of Main Street. TeasMe! is closed by the time the festivities run, and we don’t usually stay open later unless it’s our own special event.
“I can take a walk up there and check for the boys,” I say, suddenly needing a moment after talking of pregnancy and death. Main Street is only two blocks from Jess and Emily’s home.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Karyn admits. “I’ll send Tom. Then again, he might get lost himself and find himself in Town Tavern.” She shakes her head with a slight laugh.
The night continues with Tom finding the boys and Gee asking if he can spend the night at Holden’s house. I haven’t had to tackle sleepovers before, and I’m hesitant at first. It’s not that Tom and Karyn aren’t good people. It’s just that Gee’s never been away from me, and sleeping at their house is too close for comfort. While I admitted the truth of my marital status, I’m edging closer and closer to something more revealing and damaging.
Eventually, I give in, and the boys remain close to the house, letting Grace Eton’s sons join them in the front yard to play football.
“Hey,” Gavin says.
“Hey.”
“Having fun?” he hesitantly asks. After what I heard on the stairs, we haven’t been near one another.
“Actually, I am. Emily invited me to a girls’ night out tomorrow.”
Gavin smiles. “That’s great. I’ve got a thing with the guys, which I’m certain means crashing wherever the girls go. I was going to skate out early so I could see you, but now I might just push for us to find you ladies sooner.” Gavin wiggles his brows.
“You don’t need to change your plans,” I tell him. “I don’t need special treatment.” I’d like to snap, don’t do me any favors, but I’m not really angry with Gavin. He’s spoken the truth. We aren’t in love. We don’t know one another, and there’s a weight between us. I’ve told myself I just need to make it through the wedding, and then I’ll tell him everything. I don’t want to be the source of drama before these families celebrate such an important moment together. After, I promise myself.
“What does that mean?” Gavin mutters, tipping up the rest of his beer as he side-eyes me for an answer.
“I just mean you don’t need to feel like you have to hang out with me. You’re leaving soon enough, and you should spend the time with your family and friends.”
Gavin lowers his beer and sets the empty bottle on a table nearby. “I’m not feeling like I have to hang out with you. I’ve been telling you practically from the moment I got here, I want to spend time with you. If I had my way, I’d be spending every second with you.”
“Like when we were teens?” I remind him.
“Exactly,” he states, his voice rising.
“But we aren’t those kids anymore, Gavin, and we’ll never go back to who they were.”
“Because of Patrick?” He slurs my husband’s name, and I sense a fight coming. Not one for public arguments, I lean toward him.
“I think it’s time I go.” Gavin swipes a hand through his hair, and I turn away, stepping over to Emily and offering my appreciation for the night as well as the invitation to the next night’s get-together.
“You’re still coming, right?” Her eyes move to Gavin and back to me, brows creasing a moment as she senses the tension between us.
“I’ll meet you there,” I tell her, not wanting to miss out on the possibility of friendship with people who have more longevity in my life than Gavin. Gavin thanks Jess beside me for the party before he leans in to kiss Emily’s cheek.
We round their house together, and I call out to Gee.
“Be good tonight,” I say to him as he steps in for a hug. I shouldn’t be sad that he’s spending the night at someone’s house. It’s silly, really. He deserves his fun.
“See ya, buddy,” Gavin says to him, and I close my eyes, holding my son. This is so hard as my thoughts fill with dreams that will never come true. Of Gavin knowing the truth, and us being a couple, perhaps leaving a party just like this together.
Releasing Gee, I take several steps closer to the edge of the property. I’m between two parked cars when Gavin stops me with a hand on my upper arm.
“Brit, don’t leave like this. What did I say?”
“Do you have an issue with Patrick?” I turn on him.
“It’s not Patrick. I just . . . why weren’t you married when you were pregnant? Why wasn’t he taking care of you?”
My body vibrates, fighting back the words wanting to explode at him. Curling my fingers into a fist, I speak. “Don’t assume you know anything about Patrick and me.”
“I wouldn’t have to assume if you’d just tell me about him. I want to understand.”
“It isn’t your place to understand our relationship.”
“If he loved you, he should have been by your side.” Gavin’s words are a slap.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” I snap and turn back for the street, stepping into it without looking. Immediately, I hear my name, and I look left to see headlights feet away. Suddenly, I’m tugged backward, bound to Gavin by his arm around my middle. A blaring horn goes off as the vehicle passes us.
“Mom,” I hear Gee cry from somewhere behind me.
“Jesus,” Gavin mutters at my back, his arms locked around me, as we breathe heavily. The situation hits me a moment later, and I begin to shake.
“Didn’t you see him?” Gavin mumbles over my shoulder. I hadn’t been paying attention, and reality settles in. I was almost hit by a car.
Gee appears at our side, eyes wide with fear. “Mom, are you okay?”
My body begins to tremble, and I stare at my son.
“Brit?” Gavin turns me in his arms, scanning my face as his palms cup my cheeks. “Did he get you?” His eyes roam down my body while his hands slip to my shoulders and then coast down my arms.
I only shake my head as I still can’t find words to speak. The car was so close
to me. I hadn’t even noticed the headlights as my thoughts were on my upset with Gavin.
“Mom?” Gee questions, and I turn to face him, offering a weak grin as if to say I’m okay, but I’m not.
“You’re shaking. Let me drive you home,” Gavin demands.
“I need my car,” I say, of all things, still trembling. My knees wobble.
“We can come back for it,” Gavin tells me, but I shake my head again.
“I need my car,” I repeat, still in shock. I can’t find anything else to say. I’ll need to work tomorrow. I won’t have a way to get back for it. I was almost hit by a car.
I reach out for Gee, pulling him into me. If something happened to me, who would look after him? Where would he go? Who would be there for him? I clutch him to me as Gavin’s hand strokes up and down my back. Eventually, Gavin’s hand runs over the back of Gee’s head.
“Hey, I’m going to drive your mom home. She’s okay, little man. Okay?” His voice tries to soothe Gee while his touch attempts to calm me. “Go to Holden’s. Have fun tonight.”
The directive is meant to distract Gee, and my son nods. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too, baby.” The statement breaks me. I’m quivering uncontrollably.
Without asking, Gavin takes my bag from my shoulder, rummaging through it for my keys. Placing his arm around me, he double checks both directions before leading me across the street. Once I’m seated in the passenger seat of my car and buckled in, I hold out my hands, which visibly tremble.
Holy shit.
Gavin helps himself to the drivers’ side and starts the ignition.
“Are you okay?” he questions again, and I nod, still unable to form words. He reaches for my hands, pulling both of them to his lips to kiss my fingers. Keeping one within his grasp, he pulls us onto the road and drives me home.
