Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  “Mom, you don’t have to cook. Just sit with us for a minute. It’s quiet. Let’s enjoy it.”

  Gloria peered around the open door of a cabinet as she took out a mixing bowl. Her eyes settled on Sam, who looked quite content to hold his precious charge.

  “I’m up. I might as well be useful.” She cracked a few eggs into the bowl and began to whisk.

  The coffeemaker burbled a last gasp, signaling the end of the brew cycle. Wynter licked her lips. How long had it been since she’d indulged in a little caffeine? She poured a cup of coffee then held up an empty mug for Sam, who shook his head. She shrugged her shoulders, gliding to the fridge for some creamer before she settled in at the table with her new little family.

  “You know, it’s funny, Sam. When you all were in high school, Wynnie’s father and I would have sworn you and Holt were a couple.” Gloria waved the wooden spatula jauntily in the air.

  Did the woman not have a filter? Wynter shot an apologetic glance at Sam over the brim of her cup. He held her look for a moment, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  It was what they had wanted them to think. Gloria and Burt wouldn’t see the boys as a threat to their only daughter’s future if they thought they were gay. This was, perhaps, the reason Sam and Holt had grudgingly been allowed to come over after school to do homework, occasionally staying for dinner.

  Wynter was afraid they played it up a little too well at times, but oh how they had laughed about it afterwards when they’d snuck back later up the tree into her room. Her smile was melancholy, as she thought back to a time when she’d still had both Sam and Holt in her life.

  “Now here she is taking up with not one, but both of you.” Gloria chattered on, heedless of the insensitivity in her words.

  “A little respect, Mother?” Wynter gritted her teeth.

  “What’s the matter?” The woman smiled cheerily from the stove. “Oh, you mean because you chose Sam as second runner up?”

  “No, she meant show a little respect for Holt. He’s been gone less than a year.” Sam’s eyes flashed a warning that even Gloria seemed to have no trouble interpreting.

  “I wonder, though, what Holt’s parents would think of this latest development. Their precious, only child, being replaced so quickly … and by someone he used to be so close to.”

  Guilt weighed down so heavily, it was a wonder Wynter’s chair didn’t break. She couldn’t look at her mother, didn’t dare see the look on Sam’s face. She stared morosely into the cup of coffee that now held all the appeal of a puddle of mud.

  “They would want me to be happy, I’m sure.” Was she? “Their granddaughter deserves a father figure in her life. Why not someone they know and already approve of?”

  Wynter’s mother went back to scrambling eggs, without another comment. Apparently she’d run out of snarky things to say. The two young people sat at the table, watching the baby sleep.

  The knot of anxiousness that had wound itself around her heart the minute Sam told her about his phone conversation with her parents began to ease. She’d get through this. Dare she hope that her friend was right? Her parents just wanted to secure a spot for themselves in their granddaughter’s life? They would visit for a few days and leave, knowing that their girls were well taken care of? Oh, please. She could dream though, right?

  • • •

  Mother Nature had dumped a few more inches of the white stuff overnight. It was now close to March and Sam was finding it difficult to remember what his yard looked like beneath this snowy mantle. Green? The only green around right now were the green garbage cans that he’d just set out at the end of the driveway. Muttering under his breath, he put his back into the chore, clearing the porch steps.

  Wynter’s parents had been visiting for a week. They hadn’t offered up any sort of time frame on how long they planned to stay. Neither had they officially stated that they intended to bring Wyn and Charlotte back to Florida with them. So he bided his time. And bit his tongue. Oh, he’d bitten his tongue down to a stub. But it was his fault they were here, after all.

  He rather enjoyed performing the ‘couple’ routine with Wynter. He was free to act on his feelings. Any excuse to take her hand in his, rub her back as they stood side by side, or brush a kiss against her temple while they cuddled on the couch, watching TV. But the nights? The nights were torture.

  He’d give anything to share a bed with Wynter. It wasn’t even about the sex, though his heartbeat sped up just thinking about her lying there, scantily clad and drowsy. It might mean turning in his man card if he had to voice it aloud, but Sam would have been happy to just hold her. To wrap his arms around her, press his nose into her sweetly scented hair and let the rhythm of her breathing lull him to sleep.

  But she didn’t feel the same way. Wynter kept her distance. She clutched at the neckline of her robe, whenever they were alone in his room. She snuck under the covers before she removed it. She peeked at him beneath her lashes, her expression awkward, uncomfortable, even. He wanted desperately to believe that it was the stress of her parents’ visit that was causing her to pull away from him. It was like their kiss had never happened.

  Sam finished clearing off the bottom step and started on the driveway. The front door creaked open but he didn’t bother to turn around. He continued to shovel, his stiff shoulders making the movements jerky. He wasn’t in the mood for company. Eventually he heard footsteps shuffling toward him.

  “This isn’t where I pictured her.” Gloria thumped down the steps to block Sam’s path.

  “She won’t go to Florida with you.” It wasn’t his place to have this particular conversation, but the words came out, unbidden.

  “She’s flighty. She doesn’t know what she wants.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t been listening. Because it’s pretty darned clear to me.” Sam speared the shovel into the middle of a snow covered hydrangea bush. The handle quivered for a moment then held fast.

  “Wynter wants to raise her baby in Scallop Shores. She wants to go home.” She’d kill him for admitting that.

  “So this whole scenario is temporary? See? She’s flighty.”

  “I didn’t say she’d be going alone.” Oh God. Could he pull off this whopper? “When we’re ready, we’ll all go.”

  “You’d go back to Scallop Shores? Where your parents died?” He saw the determined glint in Gloria’s eyes. She was baiting him.

  “My sister has moved back there and my grandmother still lives there.”

  “Yes, but I heard you haven’t been back since that night. Now, all of a sudden, you’re going to set up house in the one place you’ve been hiding from your whole adult life?”

  If the woman was smart, she wouldn’t try so hard to alienate the one person who had made a visit with her granddaughter possible. Did she know how to be kind to anyone? The loving and nurturing gene must have skipped a generation with her.

  “So I’ve noticed you still haven’t asked for a copy of my bank statement. Can we just assume you think I have the financial means to take care of your daughter?”

  “You certainly wouldn’t know it by looking at this house.” She sniffed disdainfully, raising her nose in the air as she took in Sam’s home.

  “Bottom line, Gloria? It’s cold out here and I’d like to finish up this driveway before lunch.” Sam jerked the shovel out of the flower bush and turned away from the woman, getting back to work.

  “That foolish Holt took her away from me. They didn’t have the money to visit. I offered him money. I offered him money before they even got married. He wouldn’t take it.” She pursed her lips, pacing a bit before adding, “I don’t like her being out here in the middle of nowhere. My daughter needs more than … this.” She waved her hands around, her expression one of distaste.

  “Moving back to Scallop Shores is not going to get Wynter any closer to you in Florida.” He pitched a shovelful of snow just over Gloria’s shoulder, hiding a smile as she jumped.

  “I d
on’t want my Wynnie to keep running from me. I want to see my granddaughter grow up.”

  “Then stop trying to control her. You already pushed one child out of your life. Grant’s kids don’t know their grandparents because of you.” Sam watched her eyes widen in anger, an old pain lingering just below the surface.

  “You don’t know your place, young man!”

  “This is my place. And while you’re staying at my place, you will treat Wynter with the respect she deserves. She is an amazing woman and a phenomenal mother. She is doing the best she can for that little girl. She has big plans for Charlotte and it’s up to you whether you find yourself a part of those plans or not.”

  “You love her then.” It wasn’t a question.

  They stared each other down.

  “Fine. Move back to Scallop Shores. Maybe her father and I will move back too.”

  Wynter would have a heart attack if she heard her mother announce that. But Sam knew it for the bluff that it was.

  “You’re welcome to visit us any time.” His unspoken conditions hung in the air between them.

  “Florida seems like much more of a vacation destination, in my opinion. And since you claim to have all this money … ”

  Ever the control freak. Sam lowered his gaze to the ground, before she could see him rolling his eyes. He tried to keep in mind that having a mother like Gloria was better than having no mother at all. The smile he pinned to his face hurt, as though he’d used actual thumbtacks to attach it.

  “I’m sure I could talk her into the occasional sunny trip down south.”

  “That’s a good boy.” Gloria climbed up one step then turned and spoke over her shoulder. “I’m making my beef stew tonight. Bring your appetite.”

  Sam clenched his jaw, tightening his muscles to keep the shudder from jarring loose. He nodded through the stiff smile and prayed she’d hurry back into the house. Gloria’s stew was famous—for being revolting! Sam and Holt had suffered through batches of the stuff because it meant spending time with Wynter. Good God, how much longer was this woman going to be under his roof?

  Gloria tramped up the stairs and opened the door, knocking the snow from her boots before she entered.

  “I’ll make a double batch so you two won’t have to cook for a while, after we’re gone. Burt got us a flight out tomorrow afternoon.” She tossed back before she shut the door firmly behind her.

  “Thank you.” He spoke to the closed door. Thank you for getting the hell out of my house.

  Sam finished the driveway in record time. Knowing there was a light at the end of the tunnel gave him wings. He whistled as he worked, looking forward to getting his little family back to himself. Just Wynter and Charlotte and him, alone in the house again.

  Only he’d promised he would move them to Scallop Shores. The tune he’d been whistling ended on a flat note. He had lied to Gloria. He couldn’t go back. Even if that was the only way he could hold on to Wynter, to his temporary family. There were too many memories, too much pain left behind in Scallop Shores. He had to let her go, eventually. He put away the shovel, heading back for the house. The clock that ticked down the time he had left with Wynter and the baby sounding ominously loud in the still, pre-spring morning.

  Chapter 12

  “I’d rethink that second brownie if I were you, Wynnie. Sam’s not going to want you if you let yourself go just because you’ve had a baby.”

  Picturing the light at the end of the tunnel that was her parents’ departure, Wynter smiled brightly. Making sure to catch her mother’s eye, she added a dollop of ice cream to the top of the brownie and spooned up a big bite. Ignoring her mother’s hands on her hips and the ‘I’m-telling-you-you’ll-regret-it’ raise of her eyebrows, she focused instead on the mix of cold ice cream with the warm brownie, the melted chocolate chips sliding down her throat after coating her tongue with blissful sweetness.

  Sam caught her eye across the table and winked. It brought back memories of growing up under Gloria’s thumb. Sam—and Holt as well—had made it so much more tolerable. On the one hand, she was happy, grateful she had Sam to lend support. But on the other she was frustrated that her mother could make her feel like a recalcitrant child. She was an adult, with an infant of her own, for goodness’ sake! She had to stop letting Gloria get under her skin. Enough was enough.

  “So, when is the wedding?” Gloria looked from Wynter to Sam. The smug smirk peeling the corners of her mouth upward showed how pleased she was that she had managed to rattle her daughter’s cage … Again.

  “Mother!”

  Wynter sent a horrified look at Sam, amazed when he didn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable about the turn of conversation as she was. Gloria wasn’t his mother. She couldn’t push his buttons as easily as she could her daughter's.

  “And do you intend to invite your brother? Because I don’t think it’s appropriate for him to attend when he hasn’t participated in being a member of this family for so long.”

  “A wedding comes after a proposal, mother. A proposal comes after a good long courtship.”

  “Oh, please. No one says courtship anymore. You’ve got a baby to think about now. If Sam is going to raise Lottie as his own, you need to move forward.”

  “Sam, I want to apologize for my mother. Her conversationally-appropriate filter seems to be broken.” When mortified, resort to humor.

  “My daughter will not just shack up with a guy because it’s convenient.” Burt’s voice thundered across the table. Oh, good Lord! Charlotte whimpered in her sleep, from the bassinette in the adjoining room.

  “She didn’t say we wouldn’t get married, Mr. Allen. We just don’t see the need to rush. I love your daughter, sir. And I love little Charlotte. I intend to take care of both of them for the rest of my life.”

  Wynter stood up from the table, ostensibly to check on her sleeping baby. She felt like a weasel, forcing Sam to lie to her parents. She didn’t feel bad lying to them. No, they had brought this all on themselves. But poor Sam was having to go above and beyond the call of even the closest friendship. This is not what she’d meant to ask of him when she showed up on his doorstep, pregnant, broke, and incredibly desperate.

  When she returned from the living room, assured that the livelier-than-necessary conversation hadn’t woken Charlotte, her father had settled down. He was tucking into his third helping of dessert, not that her mother chose to point that out. Gloria’s smile, upon seeing Wynter in the doorway, was calculating. She wasn’t finished yet.

  “So when do you think you’ll be moving back to Scallop Shores?” And there it was.

  She stopped breathing. Did Gloria know this whole thing was a farce? The woman’s sharp gray eyes pinned her to the spot. Wynter’s brain shorted out. She couldn’t form words, just stood there with her mouth slightly open. Burt turned in his seat, also awaiting a response.

  “We haven’t discussed the specifics, have we, babe? It’d be best if we waited until spring, when the snow finally melts and we can think about putting the house on the market.”

  Oh, Sam. One lie just led to another. She’d really gotten him into a pickle.

  “Mom, I promise we aren’t going to make any life-altering changes without giving you plenty of notice. Okay?”

  “You mean like searching out a friend you hadn’t seen in over ten years, in favor of moving in with your parents when you were nearly ready to give birth?”

  “Sure beats being completely shut out of your son’s life, and the lives of his children, though, because your control-freak ways pushed him away, doesn’t it?” That’s right. She went there.

  Gloria’s face turned red, then slightly purple. Her eyes went from wide to a scrunched up mean. Her mouth opened, closed, the tight seal of her lips wrinkling like she’d been sucking on lemons. She whipped around, her focus now on Burt, urging him to get involved. He started to speak and Wynter cut him off.

  “No, you both listen to me. If you want any kind of relationship with me or with Charlotte
, you will stop with the smothering.” She stepped away from the doorframe, pointing a finger at her mother and then swinging it to include her father.

  “You need to trust that I am a grown woman who can take care of herself. It isn’t Sam’s responsibility to take care of me. If he chooses to be a part of our little family, it’s because he wants to, not because he has to.”

  Wynter suddenly realized her speech was really meant for him. She could care less whether her parents understood her need to be independent. But Sam? She didn’t want his charity. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to take care of her and her daughter.

  She snuck a glance at him across the table. Even his eyes were smiling, and his expression bolstered her flagging confidence. What she wouldn’t give for this scenario to be real. That they really were headed for marriage. That Sam was finally willing to move back to Scallop Shores, to face his demons. He looked at her with such warmth, such affection. It was almost like—No. She had to remember they were putting on an act for the benefit of her parents. Her imagination was sending her down a path she had no business following.

  • • •

  This was the last night they would have to share a bedroom under the guise that they were a loving couple. Wynter should have felt relieved. Instead, she found herself following him with her eyes, watching him shuck his jeans to sleep in his boxers, wishing she had the nerve to invite him to share the bed.

  Sam turned, as though he could feel her eyes upon him. He frowned. She schooled her features to hide her own turmoil, as he seemed to understand that something was up. She experimented with a shaky smile. His frown deepened. Hey, it had been a long day. As far as acting went, she was spent. He propped a pillow and lay down on top of the covers with her, thankfully leaving his T-shirt on.

  “You feeling guilty for lying to your parents?”

  “Not at all. They deserve it.” She didn’t even blink. “I’m feeling guilty that you had to lie. This can’t be easy for you.”