by Tina Holland
“Peter I…”
“I don’t want to see you when I get back. Goodbye.”
Sydney heard the click. It was ironic that he would sound sober in his last statement. Raw and primitive grief overtook her. She didn’t know what to do or where to turn. Sydney simply hung her head and let the tears fall.
Chapter 12
Fortunately, the next few weeks were busy. She signed a contract with Field and Lowe, her new agents. She started going to Lamaze classes with Courtney, another night to fill up her schedule. She took a few days working behind the deli-counter at lunch. Sydney hardly thought about Peter, except at night, when she felt alone and unloved. She wished Peter hadn’t told her he loved her. The whole situation was unbearable and unjust. If he hadn’t admitted his feelings, it would be easier. She wouldn’t have known and she wouldn’t feel such a tremendous sense of loss.
Sydney was working the deli-counter over the lunch hour when a call came in.
“Syd. Telephone!” Karen, the new pastry chef, called out.
“Can you take a message?”
“It’s Valerie, she says it’s important.”
“Take a message!” Sydney was in no mood to deal with her mother.
Sydney just finished up with a customer when Karen walked up to her. “Syd, you need to go. You’re sister is in the hospital.”
* * * *
Peter woke up with a headache. He shouldn’t have gone out drinking last night. Those tequila shots did him in. Buzz Caulfield easily intimidated others, but that wasn’t why. Peter knew why. It was to forget Sydney Wagner. He had arrived back in North Dakota two days ago and still wasn’t sober. Actually, he hadn’t been sober since he broke up with her nearly two weeks ago; something Buzz felt the need to remind him of last night.
“Pete, why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Doing what? I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re actin’ like an ass!”
“Shut-up, Buzz.” He was in no mood to be lectured, but that didn’t stop Buzz.
“I will not. I’ve never seen you so torn up by a woman, and you’ve dated a few through the years.”
“And I’ll date some more, too.”
“Not like her, I bet. Hell, you only knew her a few weeks, and look how she's got you acting.”
Peter didn’t know what to say. It was true. He would never meet anyone like Sydney again.
“My boy, you need to think long and hard about letting this pretty filly loose, or someone else will come along and brand her.”
“Too late, Buzz. I opened the stall and kicked her out.” He hung his head down.
“What in tarnation were you thinking? She was the prettiest thing I ever saw.”
“You and everyone else.”
“So that’s the burr under your saddle.”
“It’s a pretty big one, Buzz.”
“And you’re gonna let that stop you?” Buzz shook his head.
He let it stop him. That and Lance Lott. The man was too pretty for his own good. Peter spent the last few days mourning his loss of Sydney. She said they weren’t dating, but Peter envisioned Sydney running back to Lance, after the way he mistreated her. Peter told himself she was better off without him. His moment of distrust and hasty judgment kept him from accepting her past until it was too late.
Peter peered around the room, realizing he’d never made love with Sydney in his own room. He could only imagine how the memories would haunt him, like others did. He missed her. When he sobered up, Peter missed her horribly and with such longing his heart ached. Loving Sydney and not being with her was agony.
I can’t let her go. His mind echoed with such ferocity that he knew it was the answer. Don’t let her go.
Peter rose from the bed with renewed vision. He would beg Sydney’s forgiveness and somehow win her back. Failure wasn’t an option. He could not spend his days drinking her memory into oblivion.
Peter arrived at The Starving Artist in 30 minutes flat. He had rushed through his shower and the drive. Upon arriving, he rapidly made his way to the deli counter.
“Is Sydney Wagner in?”
“She’ll be out for awhile.”
“Can you tell me where she went? It’s important.”
“Is this about the baby, because Sydney just went to the hospital?”
Baby, what baby? “Which Hospital?” He tried to sound composed.
“Saint Luke's.”
“Thank you.” Peter walked quickly to his car. He had no idea there was a baby! Of course, he wouldn’t since he was a total ass, giving Sydney the boot. He tried doing math in his head but found it difficult. Peter remembered the night he broke it off with her. Did she know then? His poor Sydney suffered his insults and was all alone these past weeks. Peter was wracked with guilt; he needed to make this right. He just didn’t know how.
Peter managed to drive to the hospital without incident. He proceeded towards the front desk with speed and determination.
“Can you tell me what floor maternity is on?” He smiled hoping to get past the defenses of the receptionist.
“I’m sorry sir, no visitors on that floor.”
“I’m not a visitor. My girlfriend is here. I came as fast as I could.” He sounded impatient. “Last name is Wagner.”
“Oh. Wagner, let me see.”
He drummed his fingers waiting.
“Ah, here it is. Wagner. Room six-o-one.”
* * * *
Sydney paced in the family room, waiting to hear on Courtney’s condition. She caught a familiar stride out of the corner of the doorway, making his way determinedly down the hall.
“Peter.”
“Syd!” He looked older as he came rushing over to envelop her in his arms.
“What are you doing here?”
“The lady at your store told me I’d find you here. Syd, I know about the baby. Are you all right?”
“The baby, wait a minute. You came here because of the baby?” She wriggled free of his grip.
“Your baby.”
“And yours?” Sydney spat out the words contemptuously
“I wasn’t sure. Is it?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He felt a pang of disappointment
“Peter, there is no baby.”
“Oh, Syd, I’m so sorry.” He tried to hold her again.
“No, Peter.” She walked across the room. “It’s not my baby. I came because my sister, Courtney, is in the hospital. She’s pregnant.”
“Is she okay?”
“I’m not sure. We’re waiting to hear.”
“We?” Peter squinted peering around the room for Lance.
“My mom and brother are around here somewhere.”
“Syd I…”
“Peter.” She put up her hand, “You can go home. Rest assured no one here is having your baby, at least not that I know of.”
“I deserved that.”
“Damn right you did! You have no right coming here.” She lowered her tone after a few glares from passing nurses.
“Do you know why I’m here?”
“Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”
“Don’t be dramatic; I came here to say I’m sorry.”
“Fine. You’ve said it. You can go now.”
“Syd, I love you.”
“I remember. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to make up for all my dirty little secrets.”
“I don’t care about your secrets. I want you back. I’ve been miserable without you.” Peter’s voice cracked. Sydney saw her own pain, longing and hope reflected in his silver eyes.
“Oh, Peter.” She closed the distance between them. To feel his arms around her was like coming home.
“You don’t know how much I missed holding you.”
“I thought it was hopeless. I broke up with Lance the day before you called, but, truthfully, it’s been over for months.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
His silence compelled her to speak
. “We were never more than friends. I never had a reason to let him go, until I met you.”
“Syd, you can’t imagine the relief that brings. I was afraid I made you stray.”
“In a way, you did, but not from Lance, just from my own fear. I’m happy to leave that behind.”
“Fear?”
“Fear of having my heart broken, if I fell in love, and it didn’t work out.”
Peter realized her fear became a reality the night he cast her off. “Syd, I’m sorry I put you through this.”
“It’s okay.” She brushed her hands over his face, hoping to wipe away the pain. “I survived, and it was worth the risk.”
“I sense a 'but' coming on.”
“Peter, there’s nothing I can do about the pinup thing. Courtney contracted the pictures years ago. We used the money to build The Starving Artist. I wasn’t aware I was on planes.”
“Just the one contract, right?”
“Yes. How did you know there was only one?”
“I bought the pictures and the plane from a Dr. Gideon Roberts.”
“All of them?”
“Yep.”
“And the plane?”
“Yep.”
“Were you jealous?” Sydney asked
“No.”
She gave him a "yeah-right" look.
“Okay, maybe a little. I wanted this pinup all to myself.”
It sounded possessive, but Sydney didn’t care.
“Syd, I love you.” He bent his head.
“I love you, too” She wound her arms around Peter as he kissed her
The End
About the Author:
Tina Holland was born in Frankfurt, Germany and is a self-proclaimed military brat. Her interests include horse-back riding, camping and traveling. She currently resides in North Dakota with her husband on their ever-expanding hobby farm.
