Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  He met his sister at the door, accepting her chastising glare with a slight nod before waving her into the living room on the right. She had to do the obligatory oohing and aahing over baby Charlotte. Fatherly pride had him puffing out his chest before he remembered he’d lost that right. He slumped against the doorframe and tried to view the scene in front of him as dispassionately as possible. It wasn’t working.

  “I should make a quick pit stop before the long ride.” Wynter stood up. “Paulie, would you mind?” She started to hand the baby over.

  “Wait! Can I hold her … one last time? Please, Wyn?” He knew he was begging, knew he sounded pathetic. But he didn’t care. He was desperate.

  Without a word she placed Charlotte in his arms, ducking her head and stepping away quickly. She couldn’t even stand to be near him anymore, it seemed. Sam blinked away the tears he was finding it harder and harder to hold at bay.

  “What did you do, little brother?” Paulie whispered after Wynter had left the room.

  “I blew a perfectly good thing. I had love, real love, for the first time in my life and I blew it.”

  “Oh, Sammie.” Paulie rubbed his back and he had to jerk away, before he started bawling like the pathetic jerk he was.

  “I’m going to start loading up the truck.” She hurried from the room, thankfully realizing how close he was to losing it.

  Sam sat down in his comfy old brown corduroy recliner. He laid Charlotte out on his legs and studied her miniscule features. Bright, alert brown eyes tracked his every move. Her midnight black hair came from Holt, but her pert little chin was all Wynter. Her perfect Cupid ’s bow mouth opened in a huge yawn that ended on a smile when she realized she had his undivided attention. This little thief had stolen his heart.

  “So Riley says to tell you he hates your f’ing guts.” Wynter stood in the doorway, clasping and unclasping her hands.

  “He’s going to have to get in line. I’m hating myself enough for all of us.”

  She came in, perched on the corner of the coffee table.

  “I still love you, Sam. I understand why you did what you did. I’m not leaving because you didn’t tell me about Ruby’s offer.”

  “I know. I get it. You have to follow your dream. If you love something, set it free, right?” His bitter bark of laughter startled the baby on his lap.

  They sat for a moment, neither knowing what to say to make the situation any less difficult.

  Paulie came in for another load of baby gear before disappearing back out the door. Wynter bounced up and grabbed the Pack ’n Play in one hand and a large duffle bag of Charlotte’s clothes and blankets in the other. Without a backward glance, she hefted them to the car. Since he couldn’t pull Wynter into his arms like he so desperately needed, Sam drew her daughter against his chest and cuddled her for all he was worth.

  Too soon the women had the SUV loaded down and were ready to hit the road. The weenie in him wanted to run in the house and hide, avoid saying goodbye. Paulie probably sensed this was the case, because she’d taken his hand and dragged him to the driver’s side of the car.

  “I love you, idiot brother. Don’t make it so blasted hard to keep in touch with you.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, ending with a loud smacker of a kiss on his cheek.

  “I love you, too, Paulie. Give the boys my love. Tell ’em Uncle Sam will have another demo ready for them by next month.”

  He shuffled around to the other side of the car. Wynter had settled the baby into the back, closed the door and was waiting for him before getting in.

  “Come with us.” Her voice held a tinge of desperation.

  “I … ”

  “You can’t. I know. Just had to try.”

  “Keep trying, Wyn. Don’t give up on me.” He pulled her into his arms, not the least bit embarrassed that his tears were soaking the top of her head.

  “I love you, Sam. I wish we could find a way to make this work.”

  All he could do was nod, his throat only capable of making gurgling noises. He kissed her forehead and set her away from him. Her chin quivered as she appeared to try for a smile and didn’t quite succeed. Quickly, she ducked into the SUV and strapped the seatbelt across her body. She wouldn’t look at him.

  Paulie backed out of the driveway, tooting once before driving away. Sam didn’t want to go back inside, to his lonely house that had been swept clean of all traces of life, love, and everything good that had, however briefly, been his. He wouldn’t be welcome at Riley’s. Not yet.

  On leaden legs, he scuffed up to the front door. Until a few months ago, this house had been his sanctuary, a place designed to keep the past at bay. Now it was his jail, where he would do his penance, punished for daring to give love a chance. He’d barely gotten the door closed behind him before he slid to the floor, giving in to the tears that would no longer be contained.

  Chapter 19

  It smelled the same as she remembered. The dusty old books with an almost sweet undertone. The new books, just out of their boxes, the ink still fresh. Wynter walked slowly through the bookstore that had been a part of Scallop Shores since its owner, Ruby, had been her own age. She stopped, here and there, to brush her fingertips against a cover, or thumb through an old favorite.

  Ah, it felt good to be back. Paulie had helped her move into the apartment upstairs. Ruby was more than happy to watch Charlotte while the other women had unpacked both Wynter’s meager belongings and her daughter’s vast mountain of baby gear. Ruby had offered the furnished apartment as part of a salary package. Wynter had to remind herself that this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Returning to the front of the store, Wynter leaned her elbows on the counter and stared moodily out the window. Everything was falling into place. All her dreams were coming true. This was what she’d wanted. Why did she feel so miserable, then? Ungrateful. That’s what she was. An ungrateful leech.

  The bell tinkled over the door and she pasted on a welcoming smile, standing up straight. Sam’s grandmother, Ruby, backed into the store, pulling Charlotte’s stroller with her.

  “We’re back,” the older woman sang out. “This little gal is quite the social butterfly. She charmed everyone we met. Even that old fart, Tom Feeney, gushed over her.”

  “Old Man Feeney’s still a grouch, huh? He needs the love of a good woman.”

  “No good woman would have him,” Ruby scoffed.

  “Seriously, though. What is that man’s story? Was he jilted as a young guy? Someone kick his puppy?”

  Ruby shut the door behind herself and wheeled the baby up to the counter. She shrugged out of her long cardigan and turned to hang it on the coat tree near the door. Slipping behind the register, she sank into the rocking chair nestled in the corner.

  “Oh, don’t get me started on that old coot. I think he came out of his mother’s womb grousing over the living conditions.”

  “Still, I just wonder. Sam has this neighbor in Braeden. He was the biggest sourpuss when I first met him, really not pleasant at all. I think I grew on him.” Wynter’s smile was wistful.

  “You miss him.” Ruby rocked in her chair, the statement thrown out casually.

  “Riley? He’s a teddy bear now. Of course I miss him.” She busied herself undoing the straps, tucking Charlotte against her shoulder and swaying.

  “I meant Sam, sweetheart. You miss my grandson, don’t you?” The old woman stopped the chair and aimed a steely look at her target.

  Wynter turned away, swallowing hard against the sorrow that threatened to bubble up and over. She had no doubt Ruby would offer a friendly shoulder to cry on. She just wasn’t ready for that. It was too soon. Her wounds too close to the surface. Taking a moment to compose herself, she breathed in through her nose, let it fill her diaphragm before pushing it through pursed lips. Finally, she was ready to return her attention to the conversation.

  “I wish things had been different. Yes. I miss him.” She’d been trying for composed, nonchalant. But her wo
rds had come out swollen, clogged with emotion. Every ounce of pain that she was feeling forced its way into the inflection. Please don’t offer me sympathy right now. I’ll lose it. I really will.

  “Don’t give up on him just yet, love. Not too long ago, Sam would have kicked you out of his house. Politely, mind you. But he wouldn’t have allowed such a powerful reminder of his past to remain in his present.”

  “That’s just it, Ruby. I didn’t give him a choice.” Wynter paced from one end of the counter to the other and back. “I called in the friend card, a promise he’d made to me when we were still kids.”

  “Make no mistake, dear. He would not have honored that promise years ago. Even given how much he loved you.”

  “Did everyone know about this, except me?” She wanted to snarl with frustration.

  “Oh, Sam never told a soul how he felt. But I knew. His mother knew, too. We used to imagine what it would be like if the two of you got married. What your babies would look like.” She smiled gently at Charlotte, snoozing on her mother’s shoulder. “What he’d be like as a dad.”

  “He’s an amazing dad.”

  It didn’t even matter that Sam wasn’t Charlotte’s biological father. He’d helped her come into the world. He’d been there every day since, every day until she’d taken her little girl away from him. Oh, Sweet Mother Mary, what had she done?

  “What am I going to do, Ruby?”

  “Well, the front window display needs changing. I was thinking something with a Mother’s Day theme, but it’s your call. Have fun with it.”

  “No, I mean, what am I going to do about Sam? I feel like … ” Hampered by the baby in her arms, she couldn’t throw her hands up in the air like she longed to do.

  “Like you shouldn’t have left? Like you should have stayed in that podunk town in Vermont, no matter how bitter and miserable it made you?”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” No, that was a whopper if she’d ever told one. Wynter couldn’t even stop the giggle that reverberated on her tongue. “Okay, it was bad. Oh, Ruby, it’s a horrible place to live. Think Old Man Feeney times … Well, whatever the population is. And the town, the architecture, it was lifeless. I expected everyone I ran into to be wearing drab, beige gunny sacks.”

  “I know.” Ruby scowled. “Pauline and I drove out there shortly after Samuel bought the house. We didn’t visit him, didn’t want him to feel threatened in his new place, you understand? But we just wanted to know that he was okay.

  “Braeden, Vermont.” She shuddered. “Well, that’s when we realized he wasn’t okay. The depth of his guilt, his powerful need to punish himself. I guess I hadn’t realized just how badly he suffered from survivor’s guilt.”

  “I guess it’s pointless to ask if he ever sought help for it?” Wynter set the baby down on the polished honey countertop and tickled her tummy.

  “Why get help for something you think you deserve?” Both women sighed and nodded.

  “So, whatcha got planned for that window display? You’ve been itching to design one of those since you were ten years old.”

  Wynter stared out the window at the town of Scallop Shores. This had been her dream for so long. Only now her dream had morphed to include Sam. Her little family, her life, would not be complete without Sam. But Sam was in Vermont and had no intention of ever stepping foot in the town that held his most sorrowful memories. She had left him to prove to herself that she would not settle for anything less than her heart's desire. But wasn’t that exactly what she’d ended up doing?

  • • •

  “I’m selling the house,” Sam announced upon letting himself into Riley’s house—after the man had purposely slammed the door in his face.

  “Running from your memories again?” Riley spun his chair around and glared at his best friend. “Where’s it going to be this time? Alaska? Siberia? How long are you going to keep running, Sam?”

  “I’m not running from, buddy of mine. I’m running to.”

  He ducked into the kitchen to help himself to a cup of coffee, decided his nerves were already shot, and opted for a glass of water from the tap. Riley appeared in the wide doorframe, a skeptical frown knotting his eyebrows together. Sam coated his parched throat before continuing.

  “I need to get her back, man.”

  “There is only one way to get her back and you swore you‘d never go there.”

  “That was before I thought I had a chance with her. Before I remembered how important family is.” He set the empty glass on the counter with a thunk, threading a shaky hand through his hair. “God, Ri, I could have hidden out here until Paulie called to tell me my grandmother had died. Seriously, what kind of grandson am I?”

  “A crappy one,” Riley admitted.

  “No doubt. And a crappy brother and a crappy uncle. A crappy overall person.” He resisted the urge to pound a fist into the nearest cabinet. It wasn’t his house, after all.

  “Uh huh. And what makes you think Wynter is going to want this crappy person in her happy, shiny new life?”

  “She’s not. I get that. She doesn’t want the Sam-with-baggage. But if I can prove to her that I’m ready to change.”

  “Dude, I want to believe you. I do. But I heard her ask you, so many times, to join her in Scallop Shores. You wouldn’t even discuss it. You shut her down. And now that she’s called your bluff, you’re all ready to go racing after her and pick up where you left off. I don’t buy it.”

  Riley clucked his tongue and frowned into his lap before looking up and spearing Sam with a sharp glance.

  “What are you going to do? Buy a house in the next town over and try to coax Wynter to live with you there and still get to work in her dream town?” He sounded like he was trying to draw out a confession.

  “Fine, don’t believe me. But I’m moving back to Scallop Shores and you’re coming with me.”

  “The hell I am!”

  Riley backed his chair up and sped down the hall to the living room, not stopping until he reached the furthest shelf of books. His back to his friend, he chose a book at random, plucked it off the shelf and pretended to get lost in a battle scene. Sam rolled his eyes.

  “You have no ties to this place. We’ll find another place. Somewhere we can be together.”

  “Dude, you want me or Wynter? ’Cause it sounds like you’re not sure which side of the closet you’re on. I think you’re trying to make me feel better about you taking off, but I gotta tell ya—just feelin’ a little squicky here.”

  “Oh, shut up, already. I am moving to Scallop Shores. And like it or not, you are part of our family. You’re coming with us. End of story.”

  “I’m a lone wolf. I don’t play well with others.” Riley slammed the book shut, heaved a sigh and turned around.

  They eyed each other, neither one offering to back down.

  “Besides, I just got this sweet new set up for my books. I’m not going anywhere without my built-ins. You can’t get my built-ins into a new house, I’m not budging.”

  “You’re the biggest pain in my ass. You know that?” Sam slapped a hand against his denim-clad thigh.

  “Wynter went to a lot of trouble to build these for me. They are custom made for a custom guy.” Riley ran a hand along one of the wheels of his chair.

  “I bet if you ask nicely, she’d do it again. She seems to get a kick out of using power tools.” And he got an endless thrill out of watching her use them.

  “You don’t need me around, mucking up your alone time. I’ll be fine here. I’ve got my nurse and my PT to check up on me, make sure I’m not dead.”

  “God, you’re such a whiner!” Sam cuffed his friend upside his head and was rewarded with a nasty epithet.

  “Truth be told, Wynter probably wouldn’t take me back if I didn’t have you in tow.”

  At this, Riley snorted. “Heh heh. I can see that. I’m your ace in the hole. Oh, the power.” The resulting laughter sounded more like a deranged cackle. This time Sam smacked a palm against his own he
ad. Pain in the ass, indeed!

  • • •

  His hands were fused to the steering wheel with perspiration, almost like a built in fail-safe to keep him in his SUV, driving toward his goal. He’d begun to mutter to himself somewhere between the NH tolls and the Welcome to Maine—The Way Life Should Be sign. He longed for a paper bag—whether to soothe his rapid breathing or to puke in, he wasn’t yet sure.

  Riley’s voice was in his head, jeering and obnoxious. “You swore you’d never go back. You can’t do it. Not even for Wynter.” Sam’s muttering turned to swearing, railing at the friend who had stayed behind to deal with the sale of not one, but two houses. He could use a friend here with him now.

  No! He’d brought this on himself, staying away so long it made it that much more difficult to come home again. He was right to come alone. No one knew he was coming. It was better this way. In case he chickened out. Sam sneered at the negative thought. He wasn’t going to chicken out. He was finally ready.

  All too soon, the exit for Scallop Shores loomed in front of him. The urge to drive on by was strong and Sam had to give an extra tug on the steering wheel to nudge the car toward the off ramp. He was here. He was doing this. He felt like he was going to die.

  It would be hell for a while. He hadn’t expected it to be easy, just because Wynter and Charlotte were here. He’d done some research before leaving and found a therapist in Scallop Shores who could help him process the mountain of emotional garbage that he’d managed to barricade himself behind for the last twelve years. He’d meant it when he told Riley that he didn’t expect Wynter to take back the old Sam. She deserved a new Sam. A Sam with his head on straight and no guilt or drama weighing him down.

  The old Chamber of Commerce, a sad shack, really, had been torn down. It had been replaced by a much larger, more sophisticated building. Sam liked the row of Adirondacks on the porch. Welcome to Scallop Shores, they seemed to say. Sit a spell. He felt his blood pressure start to slow. Just a bit.