Once Upon a Valentine’s

by Holly Jacobs

  “Hey, the one thing PTA moms have down to a science is chocolate. I don’t think I’ve ever been to one of these when I didn’t find myself rewarded by something chocolate afterward. Even when I was actively dieting, PTA nights didn’t count. Or at least they didn’t count much.”

  Before Carly could echo Harry’s reassurances that Samantha was perfect just the way she was, Samantha said, “Thankfully, I don’t worry about dieting much anymore—well, at least I don’t worry very much.”

  Carly smiled. “Harry’s good for you.”

  “Yeah. It sounds totally lame, but he gets me, and likes me anyway.”

  “Who likes you?” Harry said, rejoining their conversation.

  “You like me.”

  “You got that.” He walked with them toward the table, then groaned. “I think I have to put my principal hat back on.” He gestured at a mom Carly didn’t know, who was waving wildly in their direction. He reached out, took Samantha’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Be back in a minute.”

  Samantha’s eyes locked on him as he made his way over to the other table.

  Carly studied Samantha watching Harry.

  She wondered if she’d ever gotten that goofy look on her face watching Dean. She tried to remember when they were first together. Tried to remember a time when she’d loved him so much that she couldn’t keep her eyes off him—and she couldn’t.

  Had she merely forgotten?

  Or had she and Dean never had the kind of connection Samantha and Harry had?

  Or Michelle and Daniel.

  She glanced across the table to see Michelle smiling at something Daniel had said to her.

  Carly tried to assure herself that she didn’t want what they had. That she was fine. She was a strong, self-sufficient woman who enjoyed standing on her own two feet.

  That much was true. But somehow it sounded sort of lonely.

  AT ONE-THIRTY THE next afternoon, Chuck reveled in the fact that the presentation of the first Safety Awareness Program appeared to be a success.

  He should be resting on his laurels, but right then, the only thing resting was his gaze on Carly Lewis. She was sitting across from him in the gym talking to another group of students, handing out pamphlets as she smiled and laughed.

  Animated.

  That was the word he’d use to describe her.

  Well, that was the word except when she had been in his company today.

  Monosyllabic was closer to the mark then.

  She was still obviously annoyed about dinner.

  They’d been in this gym all morning and, rather than feeling punished, Carly seemed to be having a grand time with everyone. Including Bob, an Erie firefighter who was sitting next to her.

  Chuck knew Bob from working with him on creating the program. He knew the guy was young and single. But despite being single, he rarely lacked for female companionship, according to rumors. Widely varied female companionship.

  And from what Chuck knew about Carly’s break-up, the last guy in the world that she should consider dating was a womanizer.

  He smiled at his use of the word. He sounded like his mom. Thankfully he’d only thought of the word and not said it out loud.

  “So, sir, if I want to be a police officer when I get older, what do I need to do?” a skinny kid asked.

  Chuck had been answering the same question most of the day. By rote he started the spiel, then noticed Carly was in between groups of kids and was laughing at something Bob said.

  Chuck tried to ignore them as he put together a stack of his handouts and gave them to the kid. “There’s information on law enforcement in there, but there’s also info you need now about Internet safety, dealing with bullies and the like.”

  The kid took the stack and moved on to the paramedics. Chuck tried not to think about the fact the paramedics had brought all kinds of cool equipment that enthralled the kids. Oh, he’d brought along some handcuffs and patches, but it wasn’t quite the same as a stethoscope or gurney.

  The principal came over to him. “I think that’s it, Lieutenant. We’d like to thank you for bringing all your people today. The kids had a great time.”

  Chuck made small talk while he started cleaning up his pamphlets until the principal moved on down the line, then he glanced across the gym to see Carly picking up her material as well, placing it neatly into a plastic crate she’d brought along.

  He hurried to finish, wanting to catch her before she escaped. He got over just as she slipped her coat on. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No, Lieutenant.” She paused a pregnant moment and added, “Lieutenant, sir.”

  “Come on, Carly, I said I was sorry I didn’t tell you about Julia.” He felt ten years old, but resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists and shove them in his pockets, or shuffle his feet back and forth. He managed to hold himself steady, but still, mentally, his fists were in his pockets.

  Carly didn’t say anything, then surprised him by asking, “You could do something for me, though.”

  “What? Just name it.” A reprieve. Maybe she wasn’t as annoyed as he thought.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope that from all appearances had a card in it. “Give this to your brother-in-law.”

  He took the thick envelope and their hands touched. He enjoyed it. “What is it?”

  “An apology.”

  “Carly, you were exactly what Anderson needed. Someone who would challenge him—who wasn’t awed by the fact he was a judge. He liked sparring with you.” His voice softened, just as it always did when he spoke about Julia. “We all miss my sister, but it’s been a year. Anderson needs to start healing and moving on.”

  “And moving on is easier said than done for some people.”

  “Easy or not—” Chuck was going to say that easy or not, Anderson had to figure out a way to get on with his life, but he realized they weren’t only talking about his brother-in-law.

  Carly had been hurt by her ex. Chuck didn’t have to be overly astute to know that. If nothing else, burning down half her neighborhood served as a clear sign.

  So rather than finishing the sentence, he said, “Listen, our next gig is on Friday. What if afterward you and I go out?”

  “Out?” There was confusion in her voice, which didn’t surprise Chuck since he was rather confused as well. He hadn’t meant to ask her on a date, but it appeared that’s what he’d done.

  In for a penny, in for a pound, he figured, and continued, “Yes, out. For a drink—”

  “It will only be two in the afternoon.” She set down the plastic bin she’d been holding. “I don’t drink at two.”

  “It’s closer to two-thirty by the time we pack up.” He grinned.

  “And I have kids who are coming at two-thirty.”

  “Fine. We could pick them up and all go out to—” he tried to think of an appropriate place, and settled on “—Chuck E. Cheese or some other kid-friendly spot.”

  “They’re in seventh grade. Chuck E. Cheese is a bit too young. And anyway, my ex is picking them up from school on Friday. They’re going to Cleveland and spending the weekend at his mom’s. It’s her birthday.”

  “So why did you mention kids?”

  Carly had an expression as if she’d been busted, as she answered, “I thought it would be an easy way to turn down going for coffee with you.”

  “I meant what I said about Andy moving on, and the same applies to you. And what better way to start than by going out with one of Erie’s finest?”

  “So, this isn’t coffee…it’s a date?” When he didn’t immediately answer Carly added, “I want things clear in my head because the idea of us dating immediately muddied everything.”

  He wasn’t sure he’d originally meant it as a date, but suddenly, he very much wanted it to be.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bob, the firefighter, making his way toward them, so he picked up Carly’s crate and put it on top of his own. “Come on, I’ll walk you
to your car.”

  As they walked away from Bob toward the exit, he said, “And I’m going to make a stab in the dark that you haven’t dated anyone since your ex, right?”

  She nodded and asked, “Why?”

  “Well, if you’re going to move on, I’m the perfect guy because I don’t ever date any woman more than six weeks.”

  “Pardon? You put a time limit on your dating?”

  They walked out of the gym and were hit by a frigid blast of air. “You should zip up your coat,” Chuck said before he could stop himself.

  “I’m fine,” Carly huffed. Even if he hadn’t heard the verbal huff on indication, he couldn’t help notice the huge puff of warm air turn to vapor in the cold.

  “And you’re avoiding my question,” she continued, coat still unzipped. “You have a dating time limit?”

  He decided to ignore the fact her coat was still flapping in the wind and answered. “It’s not something I sat down and analyzed, but it is the way it always works out. After a month or so, women begin to get possessive, and frankly, I’m not interested in long-term relationshiops.”

  Chuck had many reasons—rationalizations—for avoiding longer relationships. A cop’s schedule was crazy. On four days, off two. Shift changes monthly. Granted Chuck’s new job was a same-shift, weekdays sort of one, but it didn’t alter the fact that statistically, relationships didn’t go so well for cops.

  “So, I should go out with you because it won’t last more than a few weeks?” Carly asked as they reached her van. She popped the back end, took her crate from him and stowed it inside, then turned, watching him as she waited for his response.

  “I’m the perfect practice date. You’ll be seeing me at the rest of our program afternoons anyway. We’ll just go out a few times after, or in between. Then when they’re over, we’ll both move on.”

  She cocked her head to one side, and studied him, then asked, “Why on earth would you want to date me? A pyro-maniac mother of two?”

  Now, that was a question that Chuck wasn’t going to dwell on. So, he simply corrected her. “Accidental arsonist, not pyro.”

  She smiled. The expression looked good on her. “You’re serious about a date on Friday?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I guess after five hours in a gym with kids, a coffee might be nice.”

  “Hey, I’ll even spring for something to go with it.”

  “Donuts?” she teased and walked toward the front of the van and the driver’s-side door.

  He groaned. “Even if I was a huge donut fan, I’d boycott them simply so I didn’t feed into that old cop-eating-donuts stereotype. I was thinking pie.”

  She laughed then. It wasn’t some dainty sort of sound, or even a girlish giggle. It was a full-throated sound that Chuck knew he’d like to hear more of.

  “Fine. I don’t think you really know what you’re doing, but yes, we’ll go out after the program on Friday.”

  Chuck didn’t tell her that that made two of them who didn’t know what he was doing. He simply smiled. “Friday then.”

  She unlocked her door and climbed into the seat. And it was a bit of a climb. The fact she was so tiny was really accentuated as she sat in the giant vehicle.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’d better run or I’ll be late picking up the kids. I’ll see you Friday.”

  “See you then.”

  He stood in the parking lot, holding his box and watched her pull away.

  What on earth had he just done?

  “Hey, nice job—” Bob said.

  Chuck turned around. “Thanks for participating. It seemed to go well.”

  “Just wanted to say I wasn’t trying to poach.” He nodded at Carly’s van as it pulled out of the school’s parking lot and onto the street. “I didn’t know she was spoken for.”

  “Huh?” Chuck managed. Spoken for? He didn’t really think of his going out with Carly as her being “spoken for.”

  “You and Carly. She’s nice, but I don’t date other men’s women.”

  Before Chuck could respond that coffee and pie didn’t make Carly taken, Bob continued, “I don’t need to. There are plenty of available ones out there for the taking.”

  Chuck didn’t even begin to know what to say to that, so he mumbled a quick thank you and hurried to his car. The unmarked Crown Vic was a perk of the new position. He put his box of information in the trunk; the card that Carly had given him for Anderson was on top. Rather than go straight to the station, he’d stop by Anderson’s office. He didn’t want to upset Carly on Friday by not having delivered her card.

  Fifteen minutes later, he parked his car at the police station, and walked the block to the County Courthouse with its two-story columns lining the front. Chuck didn’t know anything about architecture, but the Courthouse always made him think of Greek plays.

  The sidewalks were pretty well shoveled, so it wasn’t a bad walk, but it was a cold one. Unlike Carly, he zipped his coat against the freezing air that blew in off the lake. But despite that precaution the warmth of the courthouse hit him as he waited in line to be cleared by security before going about halfway down the east wing to the stairs to the second floor. Andy’s door was closed, which boded well.

  “He in?” he asked Joyce.

  She nodded. “Go on back.”

  Andy’s office was everything a person who grew up watching television lawyer shows would expect. Built-in shelves with a dark mahogany-colored stain lined with beautifully bound legal books. The walls were a light tan, the fact that they were nondescript made them simply accentuate the Civil War paintings Anderson had on every available wall space.

  Chuck knew that they were by Dale Gallon, a Gettysburg artist Anderson was passionate about collecting.

  Chuck put the envelope on the desk in front of Anderson. “This is for you.”

  His brother-in-law picked up the envelope, holding it gingerly as if he expected it to blow up or something. “What is it?”

  “It’s from Carly.”

  Looking even more wary, Anderson opened it.

  Chuck had been right. It was a card. But not something she’d run down to the card store to buy.

  “Did she make this?” Anderson held the card out toward Chuck to give him a better view of it.

  Chuck took it. “I have no idea.”

  The paper was thick and sort of tannish-colored. It wasn’t smooth, but had a slightly uneven texture. It took a moment for Chuck to realize it looked more like material than paper. There was a fern on the front. Not some drawn-on thing, but a dried real fern that was sort of glued in place.

  Chuck handed it over. “Yeah, it’s homemade.”

  “Carly doesn’t strike me as someone who does crafts. Still…” Anderson examined it, as if weighing it. “Beautifully made by hand. Julia would have gone crazy over cards like this.”

  “Maybe Carly bought it. What’s it say?”

  Anderson shook his head, then read, “‘Dear Andy,’” a smile played lightly on his lips as he read her greeting. “‘I just want to apologize for picking on you at dinner. Especially after you explained why you sentenced me to a month working with your brother-in-law. Although a month working with Chuck could be construed as cruel and unusual punishment, it’s obvious your heart was in the right place. Thank you. Finding a job will be easier without an arson record. Warmly, Carly Lewis.’”

  Anderson held the now-opened card out for Chuck to see. “Look, she did it in calligraphy, by hand. There’s no way she bought it.”

  Chuck looked at the letter. “Yeah, she must have made this.”

  The idea of Carly taking the time to do something like this struck him as incongruent. “The part about working with me was a dig. She was pissed that I let her verbally spar with you at dinner without telling her about Julia.”

  Anderson’s smile faded. “Why?”

  “I guess because she figured picking on a guy who’s still mourning after a year was rather like kicking a dog when it was down.�
��

  “You’re going to put a time limit on mourning, too?” He frowned.

  “Mom’s right, Anderson. Don’t tell her I said those words.” Chuck meant that as a joke, but Anderson wasn’t biting. “It’s time for you to move on. Carly, too. She’s got to get over her bitterness about her ex, and you…”

  “Me?”

  Feeling nauseatingly touchy-feely, Chuck took a deep breath then blurted out, “You can’t hang on to the past. Julia wouldn’t want that for you. Carly’s taken her first steps, now it’s time for you to, too.”

  “What do you mean, Carly taking steps?”

  “Despite some initial reluctance, it seems she’s jumping into the dating pool again.” Chuck tried not to look smug, but it was hard.

  Anderson’s grin was back. “Anyone I know?”

  “Yeah. You could say that.”

  Anderson nodded. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Hey, I told her—I’m the perfect practice date for her. Just a rebound guy. Nothing serious. No expectations of forever. I was clear about that, Andy. I wouldn’t lead any woman on, especially Carly Lewis.” He wasn’t sure why especially Carly, but there it was. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting her.

  “It sounds good when you put it that way, but be careful, Chuck.”

  “Why?”

  “Carly doesn’t strike me as a woman who’s simple to date.” Anderson laughed as he held up the handcrafted card. “I suspect there’s a lot to Carly Lewis that none of us suspect.”

  Chuck didn’t say anything, but silently he agreed.

  There was a lot more to Carly Lewis than he’d initially thought…and he couldn’t wait to find out more.

  Chapter Five

  Friday morning, Rhiana screamed in frustration. The sound was loud enough that Rhiana’s voice carried from her room down the hall to Carly’s where she was desperately trying to decide what would be the appropriate outfit to wear at a Safety Awareness Program that would also be suitable for a date.

  “Mom, I can’t stay over at Dad’s without my red pajama pants. Where’d you put them?”

  “I didn’t put them anywhere, Rhi.”