What a Girl Wants

by Jennifer Snow

  Josh immediately dropped the gaming remote and, grabbing the ball from his brother, ran outside into the large fenced yard.

  “Wow, you made that look easy.” Melody’s voice held a mixture of gratitude and envy.

  “Yeah, well, kids always listen better to other people than they do their parents.” He shrugged. “Rough day?” he asked, following her into the kitchen.

  “Rough two years, eight months and twenty-three days.” She picked up several toys in the hallway and tossed them into the boys’ bedroom at the end of the hall, shutting the door on the mess of toys and unmade beds.

  “Want to talk about it?” His news could wait.

  Melody sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. Just when it seems things are going smoothly...” She lowered her voice and glanced toward the backyard, shutting the kitchen door. “Josh’s goldfish died this morning, then my shifts at Play Hard got cut and on the way home I get a message from the optometrist in the city cancelling David’s appointment that we’ve been waiting two months for...and the thing is I’m relieved because I know that kid needs glasses, but I have no idea where that money’s coming from. Then of course I feel guilty.” She paused. “Heard enough yet?” she asked, opening her clothes dryer and tossing the clean, dry towels into a basket.

  Taking it from her, Ethan carried the laundry to the living room and set it down next to the sofa. “Sorry, Mel,” was all he could think of to say. He picked up a towel and started to fold.

  “Drop that towel,” she said pointedly. “The day I need my brother to help keep my house clean is the day I’ll give up. But thank you,” she added, remembering her manners. “Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to fold them tonight, since the babysitter just cancelled an hour before my shift at the bar that was supposed to start at seven....”

  Ethan checked his watch. 6:50 p.m. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall— 5:50 p.m. The microwave read the same. Only the tiny red lights on the stove revealed the correct hour.

  “Um, Mel...I don’t mean to make things worse, but your clocks are an hour slow.”

  Her eyes widened and she jumped up from the chair. “Great, he did it again.” She looked frantic as she slid the mashed potato–topped casserole into the oven and set the timer.

  “Who did what?”

  “David keeps changing the clocks. Putting them back an hour.”

  “Why?” Ethan asked.

  Melody’s shoulders slumped and her eyes misted with tears. The emotional display shocked him. Tears were something very few people witnessed with this tough-as-nails single mom, including her family members. “He says he never sees me. That I work too much. It breaks my heart, but what am I supposed to do? I need to work.”

  She looked at Ethan, but he held no answers for her.

  “Sorry, Mel.”

  “It will be fine.” She picked up the phone again. “I’ll just have to call in.” She dialed the number to the pool hall, biting her lower lip. “This is the second time this week.” A worried frown wrinkled her forehead.

  Ethan stood and gently took the phone from her. Talking to her about Emily would have to wait. She had enough on her plate to deal with.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll watch the boys so you can go to work,” he offered, disconnecting the call and setting the phone back on the charger on the counter.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Why not?” After all, he was going to need all the practice he could get if he was going to be a dad. Dad. No matter how many times he repeated the word in his mind, the concept just didn’t register.

  Her eyes filled with fresh tears as she hugged him tightly. “You’re a lifesaver, Ethan. No pun intended.” She hesitated. “It will be late, though. It’s inventory night at the bar.”

  He waved a hand. “No problem. I’ve got it.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure?”

  “Go.”

  “Thank you. Bedtime is at eight-thirty and the casserole should be ready in an hour.”

  “Mel, I’m a bachelor impromptu babysitter so don’t kid yourself. The boys will be up until midnight and I’m ordering a pizza as soon as you leave.”

  * * *

  “PSST, BABYSITTERS ARE not supposed to fall asleep.”

  Ethan jumped at the sound of Melody’s voice waking him from a light sleep. Tossing the homemade quilt back on the couch, he sat up wide-eyed. “I’m awake.”

  Melody raised an eyebrow.

  Ethan slumped back against the couch. “Okay, you caught me. Wow, those boys can really tire you out.” While they’d waited for the pizza, they played soccer, then after dinner they played basketball in the driveway and street hockey with the neighborhood kids in the cul-de-sac. He was beat.

  “I see they made it to bed on time,” she said, shooting him a look and nodding across the living room.

  David and Joshua snored at opposite ends of the tiny love seat, sleeping soundly, limbs dangling over the side. Melody bent to kiss both of them before turning her attention back to him. “So you’re going to be a dad?”

  He should have known she’d find out quickly. He suspected Emily had gone to Play Hard Sports already to see her old coworkers and share her news. Good news? He wasn’t quite sure how she actually felt about the pregnancy. They’d had little time to talk and her reaction to it was hard to read. Kind of like his sister’s.

  “That’s what I’ve been told,” he said.

  “How do you feel about it?” She lowered herself down to the carpet next to the sleeping boys and studied him.

  She was the first one to ask, and he actually wasn’t sure.

  “Happy...angry...confused...terrified...”

  His emotions had roller coastered from one extreme to the other in the past twenty-four hours. The news that he was going to be a father had taken his breath away and he still didn’t think the realization had quite sunk in yet, and while he was obviously excited about the prospect of having a child, his thoughts constantly returned to his growing feelings for Bailey and what this meant for them. Ultimately, it meant there couldn’t be a them, and the thought left him numb.

  “The girls at work say she’s six months?” She looked at him for confirmation.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve missed a lot,” she pointed out.

  That had been one of the major sources of hurt he’d experienced after the initial shock. Emily had seen the positive pregnancy test, heard the heartbeat, felt the baby move. All the things that he’d thought he would be part of if they’d ever had children. Instead, he’d been robbed of those experiences because she’d been scared to tell him? “I’m hoping to make up for that.”

  Melody gave a sad smile. “I’m sure you will. Can I ask how Bailey is handling the news?”

  Ethan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch cushions. He wished he knew for sure, but she was avoiding him. Three unanswered voice mails, six text messages and no answer at her home were starting to make him feel like a stalker, but he was desperate to talk to her. Right now, all he could do was speculate how hurt and disappointed she must be feeling. If it was anything like he felt... “She’s ignoring me.”

  “So she’s stepping aside?”

  “What choice does she have?” What choice did either of them have? He was the father of Emily’s child. Nothing could change that, and while things were complicated and confusing and impossible to figure out, he had to do the right thing. Even if the right thing meant putting his own happiness on hold for the sake of this baby.

  Melody shook her head. “None, I guess. Not if you are determined to stand by Emily.”

  “I have to, Mel.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  He let out a deep breath. Such a complicated question. Did he love her? He suspect
ed part of him always would, but he wasn’t in love with her. His time with Bailey had shown him the difference between caring and affection for someone and passionate, life-altering love. “I love her enough.”

  “Enough to give up everything here—your job, your friends, the woman you love—to follow her back to Miami?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded.

  “And you’re sure you can’t convince her to stay here? I mean, her family’s here....”

  “I tried. She has a great job in Miami and the place she is leasing has two bedrooms....” He raked a hand through his hair. The idea of moving to Miami and giving everything up made his chest hurt. But as Jim had pointed out, if he was going to break Bailey’s heart by being with Emily, it would be kinder if he did it in another city where she wouldn’t have to face him every day. He just dreaded the moment he had to tell her he was leaving. He prayed she hadn’t heard it from someone else already. She deserved to hear it from him.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you deserved, little brother,” she said through a yawn.

  Ethan studied his sister with a wry smile. Melody’s life was far from a fairy tale. In his opinion, she had things a lot harder than he did. “Who exactly do things work out for?”

  Their gazes met and simultaneously they said, “Jim.”

  Ethan stretched as he stood. “I’ll carry the boys to bed for you before I go,” he offered as Melody stifled another yawn. The clock on the wall above the electric fireplace, with the corrected time, revealed it was after two o’clock. She hadn’t been kidding about a late night.

  “You may as well put them in my room. That’s where they’ll end up soon anyway.”

  Ethan carried the two boys down the hall and placed them under the comforter on the king-size, four-poster bed. Tucking the blankets around them, he didn’t fail to notice that both sides of the bed had been turned down, and the picture of her late husband, Patrick, stood on the bedside table next to the two alarm clocks. Patrick’s wedding ring lay next to Melody’s in front of the family photo on her tall dresser in the corner of the room. He hated that the boys were growing up without their dad. He couldn’t let the same thing happen to his own child.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “TOMORROW NIGHT AT six at the Fireside Grill, okay.... Yeah, I’ll let her know.” Nick ended the call on his cell phone the next day.

  “Nick, I need that quarter wrench,” Bailey called from under the Nissan Pathfinder she was working on in their nearly reconstructed garage. Luke hadn’t been kidding when he said they would be back in business within a few weeks. Thankfully at least at work Bailey could keep her overactive mind partly occupied with something other than Emily’s announcement and the rumors she’d heard circulating around town already that morning.

  “Here it is.” He handed her a fifth wrench and she resisted the urge to scream. Instead, she sailed out from under the vehicle and reached into the tool kit herself, blindly feeling for the right tool. “So that was my mom,” Nick said, sitting on the floor next to her.

  “She said she’s finally talked Dad into going out to dinner to celebrate his retirement. She’s made reservations for seven of us at the Fireside Grill for tomorrow night.”

  Great. The last thing she felt like doing was celebrating anything, but she knew she had to attend. For over a month, they’d been trying to convince Doug to allow them to take him out. “Okay.”

  The shop phone rang and Nick rushed to answer it. “Nick’s Detail Shop.”

  “Nick!”

  “Sorry, Bailey’s Place,” he corrected. “Yes, she is.... Just a minute. I’ll get her.”

  Bailey’s pulse quickened. Ethan? She’d been ignoring him, not knowing what to say, too angry and hurt not to say things she knew she would regret. Avoiding him was best.

  “Bailey, phone’s for you,” he said.

  She slid out from under the car. “Who is it?”

  “Some lady,” Nick answered with a shrug.

  Not Ethan. Good enough for her. Removing her work gloves and setting them on the counter, she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Bailey. Hi, darling.” Her aunt Caroline. Bailey’s shoulders sagged in relief.

  Pulling out the stool from behind the counter, she sat. “Hi, Aunt Caroline. How are you?” They spoke about once a month and Bailey tried to visit her aunt’s family in Beach Haven at least once a year, usually during the summer. But with everything happening in the past few weeks, the trip had been neglected.

  “I’m great. I’m just calling to see if you were still planning to come down this year. I know you’ve had a lot going on.”

  “Yes, it has been busy.” She’d given up on the idea of making the trip that year, but maybe now might be the perfect time to get away for a few days, at least. She hesitated, scanning the shop. Only one other vehicle sat in the farthest bay. She could repair the damaged bumper that evening, and unless they had a sudden rush of work, she could head off to her aunt’s the day after her uncle’s dinner. She could spend two or three days at Beach Haven and still return in time for Victoria and Luke’s wedding. “But, you know, I think I can still make it. How about two days from now? I won’t be able to stay long, though.”

  “That sounds perfect. We would love to see you, even for just a few days.”

  The sound of her uncle’s voice in the background caught her attention.

  “Oh, that’s right. Your uncle is wondering if maybe while you’re here, you could help him winterize his new boat.”

  “Sure, no problem. It’s actually quite simple.”

  “Bailey, dear, I think you’re forgetting which side of your family you’re speaking to.”

  * * *

  “I STILL CAN’T believe you’re actually leaving.” Mark said, leaning against the weight bench in the fire hall workout room.

  The day before, after handing his official resignation letter to Chief Clarke and apologizing for the lack of notice, Ethan had called a staff meeting at the hall to let the men know he would be leaving by the end of the following week. Jim had already known, but the others had been shocked.

  Ethan replaced the weight bar on the bench and slowly curled up to a seated position. He reached for his towel and wiped sweat from his forehead before switching places with Mark. “Hey, look on the bright side. It means you get my job.”

  He forced his tone to be light, but the words were difficult to say. He’d never envisioned himself leaving the fire hall. He had planned to retire there. It was what he loved to do—protect his family and friends. Now he was moving away. Mark had been next in line for the promotion and he deserved it.

  Mark took his position beneath the bar on the bench, struggling under the weight. “Did you add more weight to this?”

  “No, you’re just weak,” Ethan said, taking the shaky bar from his friend’s hands and setting it back in the rack.

  Mark finished his set and sat up. “So there’s something else I need to ask you.”

  “Shoot,” Ethan said, kicking off his running shoes and heading toward the showers. This was most likely his last workout at the fire hall. He planned to clean out his personal items from his locker that afternoon. He had decided to approach this whole thing like pulling off a Band-Aid—quick.

  “I was wondering what was happening with your apartment?”

  Ethan paused. He should have known that was coming. The furnished apartment above the fire hall customarily belonged to the captain until he decided to start a family or move on to other opportunities. Of course Mark should have it now. “It’s yours.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I know this was terrible timing....”

  “Nah, it’s fine. We needed to have this conversation at some point. I’ll start packing up my personal belongings this week.” He planned to have his belongings shipped to Miami
the following week. He didn’t own many big pieces of furniture, so at least that part of the move would be easy.

  * * *

  ETHAN PULLED INTO the garage lot just as the setting sun created a bright yellow and orange glow over the horizon. Two days without a word from Bailey was more than enough. He needed to talk to her, was desperate to see her. Jumping down from the Jeep, he approached the door just as she shut off the open sign in the front window.

  A bell chimed as he opened the door. Her back was turned to him where she stood behind the counter, packing up her tool kit. She’d already changed out of her coveralls and his breath caught at the sight of her in her jeans and pale blue T-shirt.

  “Sorry, we’re closed,” she said, turning. “Ethan?”

  “Yeah, remember me?” he chided gently with a nervous laugh. Her serious expression was a mix of annoyance and hurt.

  She lowered her gaze to the floor. “Yeah, sorry, I got your messages. I’ve just been...” She threw her hands up. “You know why I haven’t answered.” She grabbed her motorcycle helmet from under the counter and flicked off the lights in the back of the shop. Only the emergency lights lit the bays in the back.

  “I was hoping we could talk.” He needed to talk. There was so much he had to tell her, so many apologies he knew she deserved, and he longed for her to lie to him and say the choice he was making was okay.

  “Is there anything you could possibly say that doesn’t end with ‘I choose Emily’?”

  His shoulders sagged. Is that what she thought he was doing? Choosing? He sure didn’t feel like he’d been given any say in the direction his future was now heading. But he could understand that her hurt and frustration would make her think in those terms.

  “No,” he said finally.

  “Then I guess we’re done here.”

  “How can we possibly be done? Don’t you have anything at all to say to me?”